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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Litter to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Eddi Front,
Rotary Connection,
Dark Day,
Surgeon,
Suicide,
The Dirtbombs,
The Move,
Big Daddy Kane,
Niagra,
Dennis Brown,
Von Mondo,
Skaos,
Ornette Coleman,
Kenny Larkin,
Marvin Gaye,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Make Up,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
Boredoms,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jeff Mills,
Byron Stingily,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Zeros,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Blackbyrds,
Faraquet,
Bobby Byrd,
Vainqueur,
Outsiders,
Cheater Slicks,
Skarface,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Cale,
Radio Birdman,
Jawbox,
Boz Scaggs,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols,
Kerrie Biddell,
Franke,
Nico,
Interpol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Groovy Waters,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Green,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Matthew Bourne,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.