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 Turkmenistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
AZ,
Blancmange,
Cymande,
Marmalade,
Schoolly D,
Chris Corsano,
The Invisible,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fugazi,
Trumans Water,
The Evens,
Pantaleimon,
The Standells,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bluetip,
Essential Logic,
Hasil Adkins,
Pylon,
Sister Nancy,
Eden Ahbez,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Sonics,
Warren Ellis,
Skriet,
Soulsonic Force,
Mark Hollis,
Aswad,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Josef K,
Porter Ricks,
Cameo,
Vladislav Delay,
The Skatalites,
Lyres,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Black Dice,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cure,
Godley & Creme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Junior Murvin,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Age Steppers,
Banda Bassotti,
The Victims,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Copeland,
Camberwell Now,
Terry Callier,
the Slits,
Black Flag,
Inner City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bauhaus,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.