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 Dominican Republic and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Slits to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Theoretical Girls,
B.T. Express,
Black Sheep,
Cymande,
Matthew Bourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
June of 44,
Excepter,
The Walker Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Roxy Music,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mars,
Aloha Tigers,
Funky Four + One,
The Zeros,
Quantec,
Fluxion,
The Star Department,
The Count Five,
Charles Mingus,
Bush Tetras,
Lindisfarne,
Clear Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Porter Ricks,
Basic Channel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Todd Terry,
The Knickerbockers,
a-ha,
Tubeway Army,
Sandy B,
Wasted Youth,
Electric Prunes,
The Offenders,
Scott Walker,
Matthew Halsall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mummies,
Cheater Slicks,
F. McDonald,
Rapeman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donny Hathaway,
Avey Tare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
FM Einheit,
X-102,
Leonard Cohen,
Davy DMX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
The Barracudas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Robert Hood,
the Association,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.