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 India and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Underground Resistance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Divine Comedy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Newcleus,
Bad Manners,
Rekid,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Chris & Cosey,
The Standells,
Dennis Brown,
H. Thieme,
Kas Product,
The Star Department,
Wasted Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Carl Craig,
Prince Buster,
Moss Icon,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eurythmics,
The Victims,
Harry Pussy,
Fad Gadget,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
The Motions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bronski Beat,
Black Sheep,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
New York Dolls,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Near,
Arab on Radar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
X-Ray Spex,
The Names,
Whodini,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Residents,
Sound Behaviour,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nas,
Soul II Soul,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fear,
Drexciya,
Arthur Verocai,
Heaven 17,
Brand Nubian,
Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.