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 Belarus and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Hood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sonics,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Reuben Wilson,
Iggy Pop,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lalann,
Ultimate Spinach,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Kinks,
Freddie Wadling,
Dual Sessions,
Hardrive,
Tres Demented,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Little Man,
Piero Umiliani,
Procol Harum,
Flipper,
The Real Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Connie Case,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
Motorama,
China Crisis,
Moebius,
Das Ding,
Metal Thangz,
Saccharine Trust,
Matthew Bourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Doors,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl,
Franke,
Roxette,
Talk Talk,
Easy Going,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
Neu!,
Porter Ricks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mad Mike,
The Dirtbombs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
D'Angelo,
Ten City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Almond,
Bill Wells,
CMW,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.