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 Bahamas and from London.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Magma to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liliput,
The Trojans,
X-Ray Spex,
The Misunderstood,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Invisible,
Newcleus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sandy B,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Angels of Light,
Juan Atkins,
DNA,
Monks,
Smog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Skarface,
DJ Sneak,
Bluetip,
Duran Duran,
Tomorrow,
Lungfish,
Fad Gadget,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Womack,
Hoover,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tears for Fears,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
John Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
Livin' Joy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dark Day,
Yaz,
The Stooges,
Toni Rubio,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Barracudas,
The Gap Band,
Brass Construction,
Heaven 17,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mummies,
Sixth Finger,
kango's stein massive,
Steve Hackett,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thompson Twins,
Schoolly D,
New Order,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Terry Callier,
The Leaves,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.