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 Peru and from Bologna.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Can,
Lou Reed,
The Dead C,
AZ,
Joe Smooth,
Reuben Wilson,
Qualms,
The Remains,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sister Nancy,
Neil Young,
A Certain Ratio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultra Naté,
Subhumans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun Ra,
Spoonie Gee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Knickerbockers,
One Last Wish,
Visage,
Sex Pistols,
Bob Dylan,
Scrapy,
Accadde A,
The Searchers,
Urselle,
Kenny Larkin,
Hasil Adkins,
Skarface,
B.T. Express,
The Fire Engines,
John Holt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare,
Whodini,
Bobby Sherman,
Jacob Miller,
Kas Product,
Lee Hazlewood,
Underground Resistance,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anakelly,
Gichy Dan,
Hashim,
Young Marble Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Buzzcocks,
Monolake,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Zapp,
Q and Not U,
Alton Ellis,
Oneida,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
Chrome,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.