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 Bahamas and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Human League to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
The Slits,
The Gladiators,
Bad Manners,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Donald Byrd,
The Doors,
Nirvana,
The Knickerbockers,
Anthony Braxton,
Hoover,
The Mummies,
Niagra,
the Soft Cell,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
Slave,
the Bar-Kays,
Make Up,
Thee Headcoats,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sällskapet,
Chrome,
Kurtis Blow,
Derrick May,
Pylon,
Juan Atkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barry Ungar,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Litter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T.S.O.L.,
Freddie Wadling,
Masters at Work,
Neu!,
The Durutti Column,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Vogues,
Minny Pops,
Loose Ends,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
World's Most,
K-Klass,
Amon Düül,
John Coltrane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake,
Spoonie Gee,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sound Behaviour,
Camberwell Now,
Second Layer,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
David McCallum,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.