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 Afghanistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Symarip to the rap 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
The Fortunes,
Henry Cow,
Hoover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jandek,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tom Boy,
Essential Logic,
Ultra Naté,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
Monks,
Althea and Donna,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
The Monks,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül II,
Minutemen,
Pagans,
The Sonics,
Fugazi,
Deepchord,
Bronski Beat,
Skaos,
The Names,
The Dead C,
Eurythmics,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
The Remains,
Nation of Ulysses,
Neu!,
Sister Nancy,
La Düsseldorf,
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Icehouse,
The Five Americans,
Mantronix,
Accadde A,
Clear Light,
Eli Mardock,
Index,
Lower 48,
The Electric Prunes,
Depeche Mode,
Godley & Creme,
Anthony Braxton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Technova,
Jacob Miller,
Shuggie Otis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boredoms,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.