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 Bulgaria and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New Order to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Gap Band,
Mr. Review,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jimmy McGriff,
Reuben Wilson,
The Divine Comedy,
the Bar-Kays,
The Martian,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scientists,
Steve Hackett,
Duran Duran,
Von Mondo,
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
Terry Callier,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Q65,
Fela Kuti,
The Moleskins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
The Residents,
Anakelly,
Subhumans,
Faraquet,
Sarah Menescal,
X-102,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Stereo Dub,
Ken Boothe,
Josef K,
Alphaville,
Bill Wells,
Nico,
Kaleidoscope,
James White and The Blacks,
Boz Scaggs,
Bronski Beat,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
The Slits,
Sex Pistols,
Aswad,
The Dave Clark Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Clear Light,
Skriet,
Royal Trux,
Main Source,
Leonard Cohen,
Soul II Soul,
Angry Samoans,
the Soft Cell,
Sound Behaviour,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.