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 Colombia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Ituana to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Y Pants,
The J.B.'s,
X-102,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Eddi Front,
Sun City Girls,
the Slits,
Nico,
Pierre Henry,
Deadbeat,
The Victims,
Skriet,
Minutemen,
Barrington Levy,
E-Dancer,
Dead Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Sheep,
Brand Nubian,
Make Up,
LL Cool J,
Eurythmics,
La Düsseldorf,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
H. Thieme,
Darondo,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cecil Taylor,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roger Hodgson,
Technova,
Magazine,
Livin' Joy,
Black Pus,
Circle Jerks,
John Holt,
In Retrospect,
Rekid,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Von Mondo,
Con Funk Shun,
Organ,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bad Manners,
Moby Grape,
Godley & Creme,
FM Einheit,
Lebanon Hanover,
Second Layer,
Pantytec,
Flipper,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
The Slackers,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.