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 Nicaragua and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar 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 linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Althea and Donna,
Marc Almond,
FM Einheit,
Reuben Wilson,
Nils Olav,
Rakim,
Adolescents,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Invisible,
Rekid,
Saccharine Trust,
Urselle,
Aswad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
The Raincoats,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mo-Dettes,
Skaos,
The Slackers,
The Tremeloes,
X-Ray Spex,
Eli Mardock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Drexciya,
Eurythmics,
New Order,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
Theoretical Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
F. McDonald,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Womack,
MC5,
Tim Buckley,
The Pop Group,
Bill Wells,
Girls At Our Best!,
Severed Heads,
The Sound,
The Smoke,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Axelrod,
Johnny Clarke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
June of 44,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Max Romeo,
Suicide,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Duran Duran,
Swell Maps,
Susan Cadogan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Cale,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.