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 Indonesia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marcia Griffiths to the techno 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
In Retrospect,
The Tremeloes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DNA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Nils Olav,
Sister Nancy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Skarface,
Spandau Ballet,
Terry Callier,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeru the Damaja,
Trumans Water,
The Fall,
The Invisible,
The Human League,
Grauzone,
Slick Rick,
Kurtis Blow,
Loose Ends,
Yusef Lateef,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
Zapp,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pulsallama,
The United States of America,
Blancmange,
Scrapy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Fraelich,
Arthur Verocai,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Desert Stars,
Franke,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Sound Behaviour,
Roger Hodgson,
Sandy B,
Quando Quango,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mad Mike,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donald Byrd,
ABC,
Los Fastidios,
The Standells,
Faust,
Deepchord,
Fugazi,
Icehouse,
The Beau Brummels,
Fatback Band,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.