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 Jordan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultra Naté to the jazz 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers 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?
Brand Nubian,
the Soft Cell,
Donny Hathaway,
Rakim,
Popol Vuh,
The Martian,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Surgeon,
Faust,
Ultravox,
Duran Duran,
The Modern Lovers,
Silicon Teens,
The Trojans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deakin,
Minnie Riperton,
Yusef Lateef,
Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Sherman,
The Doors,
Max Romeo,
Television Personalities,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Y Pants,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
Radiohead,
The Real Kids,
Fugazi,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Offenders,
Pantytec,
Quadrant,
Black Pus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Accadde A,
Soulsonic Force,
Drexciya,
Reagan Youth,
The Techniques,
Camberwell Now,
Symarip,
Aural Exciters,
H. Thieme,
The Victims,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
Erykah Badu,
Fatback Band,
Chrome,
Rapeman,
MDC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ludus,
Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.