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 Equatorial Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 L. Decosne to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Moebius,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Lydon,
Lou Christie,
KRS-One,
Mary Jane Girls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Cowsills,
The Red Krayola,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
Marmalade,
Outsiders,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Television,
Amazonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Nas,
Boogie Down Productions,
Albert Ayler,
Ultra Naté,
Blossom Toes,
The Modern Lovers,
Swell Maps,
Guru Guru,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Copeland,
the Bar-Kays,
the Normal,
Royal Trux,
David McCallum,
Agent Orange,
Howard Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Little Man,
H. Thieme,
The Vogues,
the Slits,
10cc,
Liliput,
Mission of Burma,
Icehouse,
Kayak,
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
Parry Music,
Kenny Larkin,
Lightning Bolt,
Ituana,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.