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 Milan.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes 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 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
James White and The Blacks,
Young Marble Giants,
Suburban Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monks,
Rapeman,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oblivians,
New York Dolls,
H. Thieme,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
Hot Snakes,
Maurizio,
China Crisis,
Jacques Brel,
Sam Rivers,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Normal,
Robert Wyatt,
Barbara Tucker,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Al Stewart,
Josef K,
Camouflage,
Simply Red,
Audionom,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fat Boys,
Adolescents,
Radiohead,
The Human League,
The Gladiators,
John Holt,
Mr. Review,
The Doors,
F. McDonald,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
New Age Steppers,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slackers,
Stereo Dub,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blake Baxter,
Bill Near,
The Velvet Underground,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed,
Patti Smith,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masters at Work,
Heaven 17,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.