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 Luxembourg and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Amon Düül to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Pylon,
Fluxion,
Siglo XX,
Slave,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Circle Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
Morten Harket,
Joensuu 1685,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gap Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Selecter,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Görl,
Deadbeat,
Soft Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Cameo,
Colin Newman,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ten City,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tears for Fears,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eurythmics,
Bluetip,
Carl Craig,
Don Cherry,
T.S.O.L.,
John Holt,
Crash Course in Science,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Motorama,
Can,
Derrick Morgan,
Subhumans,
Fear,
Popol Vuh,
FM Einheit,
Negative Approach,
Bronski Beat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxette,
Joy Division,
The Mojo Men,
X-101,
Minny Pops,
the Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
Whodini,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.