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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ultimate Spinach to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Tres Demented,
Soft Cell,
Index,
B.T. Express,
The Victims,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fugazi,
Nico,
DNA,
Prince Buster,
Robert Görl,
X-Ray Spex,
Slick Rick,
Chrome,
Dave Gahan,
Organ,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
Jawbox,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gap Band,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
48th St. Collective,
Niagra,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
Delta 5,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
KRS-One,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thompson Twins,
James White and The Blacks,
Kenny Larkin,
Sun Ra,
Deadbeat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Audionom,
the Human League,
The Move,
Inner City,
Flipper,
the Soft Cell,
Zapp,
The Remains,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Chris Corsano,
Godley & Creme,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Bowie,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.