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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lalo Schifrin to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Terry Callier,
Severed Heads,
Tomorrow,
Can,
Dead Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New York Dolls,
La Düsseldorf,
Blake Baxter,
Inner City,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sällskapet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grauzone,
Tom Boy,
Y Pants,
Ituana,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo,
Ronnie Foster,
Kenny Larkin,
Skarface,
Kurtis Blow,
Symarip,
Infiniti,
The Move,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Don Cherry,
Lalann,
Zero Boys,
Patti Smith,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Average White Band,
Suburban Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Drexciya,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doors,
The Mojo Men,
Tears for Fears,
Fela Kuti,
Dave Gahan,
Camouflage,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aural Exciters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rod Modell,
Soft Cell,
Pantytec,
Ken Boothe,
Lungfish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Suicide,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.