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 Russia and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 L. Decosne to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Outsiders,
The Young Rascals,
Eurythmics,
Cal Tjader,
Altered Images,
Soulsonic Force,
Moby Grape,
Lou Christie,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Normal,
Blancmange,
Scan 7,
The Alarm Clocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Goldenarms,
Gong,
Intrusion,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers,
Glenn Branca,
K-Klass,
The Tremeloes,
10cc,
Spoonie Gee,
Grey Daturas,
Piero Umiliani,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sonic Youth,
Quando Quango,
The Knickerbockers,
The Black Dice,
Barrington Levy,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
Chris & Cosey,
Television Personalities,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
L. Decosne,
Nirvana,
Derrick May,
Funkadelic,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Tom Boy,
Patti Smith,
Kayak,
Eric Copeland,
Brass Construction,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Sheep,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bad Manners,
Shoche,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.