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 Korea South and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Susan Cadogan 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Tubeway Army,
Dark Day,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
Harry Pussy,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Selecter,
the Human League,
Duran Duran,
Quando Quango,
X-102,
Andrew Hill,
Black Flag,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultravox,
Colin Newman,
Agent Orange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
Fad Gadget,
Sly & The Family Stone,
AZ,
Moby Grape,
Byron Stingily,
Sister Nancy,
Vainqueur,
Procol Harum,
Main Source,
Ornette Coleman,
The Young Rascals,
OOIOO,
John Holt,
Popol Vuh,
The Moleskins,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Five Americans,
Bill Near,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Moon,
The Toasters,
Sound Behaviour,
David McCallum,
The Move,
Boz Scaggs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Infiniti,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tommy Roe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bad Manners,
Toni Rubio,
One Last Wish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monochrome Set,
John Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.