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 Paraguay 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Skarface to the rock 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Prunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jeff Mills,
Black Pus,
B.T. Express,
La Düsseldorf,
Albert Ayler,
Nils Olav,
Warren Ellis,
The Real Kids,
The Litter,
Joe Smooth,
Peter & Gordon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Porter Ricks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Byrd,
Al Stewart,
U.S. Maple,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Altered Images,
10cc,
Ronan,
Eric Dolphy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cheater Slicks,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Darondo,
Siglo XX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agitation Free,
Livin' Joy,
Juan Atkins,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gichy Dan,
Schoolly D,
OOIOO,
Piero Umiliani,
Depeche Mode,
John Lydon,
Au Pairs,
Duran Duran,
The Zeros,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blake Baxter,
The Electric Prunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
World's Most,
The Blackbyrds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radiohead,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.