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 Malta and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 LL Cool J to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Womack,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harry Pussy,
Eddi Front,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Thee Headcoats,
Tim Buckley,
The Victims,
Warren Ellis,
Iggy Pop,
Can,
Dark Day,
The Motions,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
Oneida,
Arab on Radar,
Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fluxion,
Laurel Aitken,
Hardrive,
Deakin,
Pylon,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid,
Nik Kershaw,
Camberwell Now,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
The J.B.'s,
Altered Images,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Copeland,
Quantec,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
EPMD,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minor Threat,
The Real Kids,
Malaria!,
Toni Rubio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
L. Decosne,
Reuben Wilson,
One Last Wish,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Bourne,
Vainqueur,
The Gun Club,
Bill Near,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rakim,
The Monks,
In Retrospect,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.