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 Fiji and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Howard Jones to the funk 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
Johnny Clarke,
The Toasters,
Rapeman,
Yaz,
Nils Olav,
Sonic Youth,
Underground Resistance,
Ken Boothe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sällskapet,
Accadde A,
Oblivians,
Rakim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
The Doors,
Wings,
Anthony Braxton,
Pagans,
48th St. Collective,
The Real Kids,
Black Pus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pere Ubu,
The Motions,
The Zeros,
Tres Demented,
Simply Red,
Nirvana,
Crooked Eye,
Roger Hodgson,
Jawbox,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Dolphy,
Pulsallama,
Motorama,
R.M.O.,
The Kinks,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cecil Taylor,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bob Dylan,
Fad Gadget,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smoke,
Spoonie Gee,
Technova,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Minny Pops,
Scion,
The Offenders,
Ultra Naté,
Rod Modell,
Hardrive,
Ronnie Foster,
X-101,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sandy B,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.