Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sri Lanka and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Flamin' Groovies to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Scion,
Chrome,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Black Moon,
Audionom,
The Index,
Monks,
The Busters,
John Lydon,
The Trojans,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Real Kids,
David Bowie,
Kurtis Blow,
Peter & Gordon,
Talk Talk,
Amazonics,
Suicide,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moebius,
Cheater Slicks,
Joensuu 1685,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Style,
Bush Tetras,
Stereo Dub,
Howard Jones,
ABBA,
Sugar Minott,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Blues Magoos,
Scientists,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Spandau Ballet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Easy Going,
Mo-Dettes,
The United States of America,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Q and Not U,
Altered Images,
Procol Harum,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yusef Lateef,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Don Cherry,
The Young Rascals,
This Heat,
Youth Brigade,
Eurythmics,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.