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 Dominican Republic and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Marmalade to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Qualms,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy,
Byron Stingily,
the Slits,
The Fire Engines,
Dave Gahan,
Mo-Dettes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Barracudas,
The Gories,
Funky Four + One,
Arthur Verocai,
David McCallum,
Mission of Burma,
Rod Modell,
Leonard Cohen,
John Holt,
Negative Approach,
Cymande,
R.M.O.,
Gichy Dan,
ABBA,
Public Image Ltd.,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Oblivians,
Model 500,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Soul II Soul,
Urselle,
Todd Rundgren,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cramps,
Delta 5,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mad Mike,
The Selecter,
Althea and Donna,
Darondo,
Radiohead,
The Dirtbombs,
Hashim,
Alison Limerick,
The Alarm Clocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
James White and The Blacks,
The Standells,
Crash Course in Science,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
Roger Hodgson,
The J.B.'s,
Circle Jerks,
Cluster,
Yusef Lateef,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
X-102,
Zapp,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.