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 Liberia and from New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Henry Cow to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gang Green,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Monolake,
Rakim,
The Remains,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blancmange,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neu!,
Derrick May,
Q65,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
CMW,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Holt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Zapp,
The Count Five,
Grauzone,
Shoche,
Supertramp,
The Red Krayola,
Index,
Tres Demented,
Junior Murvin,
Gang of Four,
Kool Moe Dee,
Babytalk,
The American Breed,
Sister Nancy,
Lakeside,
Black Bananas,
Alphaville,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moody Blues,
Kenny Larkin,
Absolute Body Control,
Stockholm Monsters,
Visage,
Jacob Miller,
Yellowson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Johnny Clarke,
Theoretical Girls,
Quando Quango,
The Saints,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.