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 Denmark and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Camouflage to the grime 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Graham Central Station,
The Trojans,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
Erykah Badu,
48th St. Collective,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul II Soul,
Vainqueur,
Godley & Creme,
The Raincoats,
Barbara Tucker,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marvin Gaye,
Scrapy,
The Victims,
Arcadia,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Liliput,
Con Funk Shun,
Isaac Hayes,
Rufus Thomas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantytec,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flipper,
Jerry's Kids,
Sound Behaviour,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
PIL,
the Swans,
Mo-Dettes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cymande,
June Days,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Standells,
Little Man,
Nils Olav,
E-Dancer,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
Public Image Ltd.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donny Hathaway,
Second Layer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
Soft Machine,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.