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 Lucia and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mr. Review to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dawn Penn,
Mr. Review,
Easy Going,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chrome,
The Cramps,
The Evens,
Man Parrish,
Pagans,
Ultravox,
The Neon Judgement,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Leonard Cohen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James White and The Blacks,
Fear,
The Last Poets,
Blancmange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Simply Red,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Magazine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Don Cherry,
Sandy B,
Inner City,
The Young Rascals,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kaleidoscope,
Delon & Dalcan,
Con Funk Shun,
The Knickerbockers,
Fugazi,
Amon Düül II,
The Litter,
Nils Olav,
New Order,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eden Ahbez,
Television,
Roxy Music,
the Bar-Kays,
Minor Threat,
K-Klass,
The Cowsills,
Porter Ricks,
Radio Birdman,
Hashim,
Magma,
Nik Kershaw,
Faraquet,
a-ha,
Amazonics,
Moss Icon,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.