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 Netherlands and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cure to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Blake Baxter,
Neil Young,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Pagans,
Mark Hollis,
Man Parrish,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Cell,
Pantaleimon,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
Echospace,
Chrome,
The Gun Club,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Young Marble Giants,
The Smoke,
E-Dancer,
Wings,
Erasure,
ABBA,
Crooked Eye,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sex Pistols,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cramps,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronnie Foster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Starr,
Mr. Review,
Mad Mike,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
David Axelrod,
Loose Ends,
Surgeon,
Simply Red,
Mars,
H. Thieme,
Barbara Tucker,
Fat Boys,
Whodini,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
Minnie Riperton,
Moebius,
The Doors,
Supertramp,
Graham Central Station,
Rosa Yemen,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.