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 Ivory Coast and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Henry Cow to the dance 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Harry Pussy,
Rufus Thomas,
Siglo XX,
a-ha,
Blake Baxter,
Marc Almond,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Underground Resistance,
Magma,
Q and Not U,
Thompson Twins,
The Raincoats,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mad Mike,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Pretty Things,
Rapeman,
Tears for Fears,
Moebius,
Marmalade,
Cameo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Public Image Ltd.,
June Days,
Fad Gadget,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Howard Jones,
Black Pus,
The Happenings,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
Intrusion,
The Zeros,
Severed Heads,
Accadde A,
The Gun Club,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric Copeland,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cowsills,
B.T. Express,
Ice-T,
Von Mondo,
Mission of Burma,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sound,
Pierre Henry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blancmange,
The Smiths,
Dave Gahan,
cv313,
Pole,
Freddie Wadling,
Bill Wells,
Camouflage,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.