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 Iran and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gabor Szabo to the crunk 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 Cell. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants 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?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Patti Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
Deakin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Barracudas,
Henry Cow,
The Martian,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lindisfarne,
The Gladiators,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Schoolly D,
Skriet,
Bush Tetras,
The Black Dice,
Tears for Fears,
Arab on Radar,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hoover,
La Düsseldorf,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Make Up,
Minor Threat,
Jacob Miller,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fatback Band,
Skaos,
Technova,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gun Club,
Colin Newman,
Quadrant,
Sight & Sound,
Gang of Four,
Moebius,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Sheep,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-101,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Sherman,
Godley & Creme,
Reagan Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dead C,
The Birthday Party,
Alton Ellis,
Depeche Mode,
Fela Kuti,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Smog,
Rotary Connection,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.