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 Kuwait and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Shuggie Otis to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Ice-T,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
PIL,
Alice Coltrane,
Accadde A,
Hoover,
Gichy Dan,
Suburban Knight,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smoke,
Reagan Youth,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Green,
Echospace,
Au Pairs,
Mission of Burma,
The Shadows of Knight,
The American Breed,
The Associates,
Section 25,
Rod Modell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lou Christie,
Can,
AZ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Cale,
Cluster,
B.T. Express,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Knickerbockers,
Wally Richardson,
Scott Walker,
The Real Kids,
Tim Buckley,
The Five Americans,
The Sonics,
The Leaves,
The Seeds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Josef K,
Model 500,
Qualms,
The Stooges,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ituana,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.