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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Buzzcocks,
Pantaleimon,
Scratch Acid,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare,
The Slackers,
Eric Copeland,
David Bowie,
Junior Murvin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Babytalk,
Prince Buster,
Clear Light,
Black Pus,
Franke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sällskapet,
The Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
ABC,
Public Enemy,
D'Angelo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Agitation Free,
The Offenders,
Bob Dylan,
The Neon Judgement,
Interpol,
Joy Division,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
the Sonics,
Albert Ayler,
The Fortunes,
Slave,
AZ,
Intrusion,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
The Blackbyrds,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fire Engines,
Audionom,
The Doors,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Foxx,
Joe Finger,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Animal Collective,
Boredoms,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Sugar Minott,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.