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 Egypt and from Philadelphia.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 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 The Martian to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Schoolly D,
Depeche Mode,
The Five Americans,
Hoover,
Robert Wyatt,
Cluster,
Parry Music,
Qualms,
Brothers Johnson,
A Certain Ratio,
Aaron Thompson,
Fad Gadget,
Freddie Wadling,
It's A Beautiful Day,
B.T. Express,
Clear Light,
ABC,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scrapy,
Supertramp,
The Fire Engines,
Second Layer,
Michelle Simonal,
Excepter,
Bush Tetras,
The Cramps,
Pere Ubu,
The Slackers,
The Martian,
Pantytec,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bluetip,
Alphaville,
Livin' Joy,
Theoretical Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Model 500,
Bootsy Collins,
Camouflage,
Joensuu 1685,
The Shadows of Knight,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Pylon,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wally Richardson,
Hasil Adkins,
Roxette,
Dorothy Ashby,
Idris Muhammad,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
James White and The Blacks,
Banda Bassotti,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
Ronnie Foster,
The Wake,
a-ha,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.