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 Kenya and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Nik Kershaw to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
John Lydon,
Fugazi,
Grauzone,
Ronnie Foster,
Tom Boy,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Green,
Sixth Finger,
Rufus Thomas,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Hill,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
The Kinks,
Moebius,
Funkadelic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oblivians,
Lakeside,
Pylon,
Prince Buster,
Gong,
Groovy Waters,
Y Pants,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Wells,
Ituana,
Avey Tare,
Second Layer,
The Young Rascals,
The Wake,
Mark Hollis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swell Maps,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angry Samoans,
The Black Dice,
Pole,
EPMD,
Black Pus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
FM Einheit,
Ten City,
Eric Copeland,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pussy Galore,
Black Sheep,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
X-Ray Spex,
A Certain Ratio,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ossler,
In Retrospect,
Inner City,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.