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 Cambodia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 Silicon Teens to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Blancmange,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Public Enemy,
The Slits,
Charles Mingus,
Metal Thangz,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Don Cherry,
The Vogues,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Trumans Water,
Stiv Bators,
Camberwell Now,
Ultimate Spinach,
H. Thieme,
Eric Copeland,
Easy Going,
MDC,
Josef K,
Cymande,
Erasure,
Subhumans,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Ponytail,
Black Moon,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest,
LL Cool J,
Morten Harket,
The Beau Brummels,
Idris Muhammad,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Livin' Joy,
Icehouse,
The Trojans,
Cecil Taylor,
the Slits,
Moss Icon,
Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Mad Mike,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Monolake,
The Victims,
The Names,
DJ Style,
Sound Behaviour,
X-Ray Spex,
Hasil Adkins,
Crime,
Laurel Aitken,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.