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 Maldives and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Curtis Mayfield to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Severed Heads,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Bananas,
Second Layer,
Masters at Work,
Maurizio,
Massinfluence,
The Techniques,
Angry Samoans,
Thee Headcoats,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Model 500,
Bang On A Can,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fortunes,
Guru Guru,
The Doors,
These Immortal Souls,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Foxx,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
Delta 5,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
Gong,
Bobby Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
Lou Reed,
The Five Americans,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Symarip,
Eve St. Jones,
Deakin,
Accadde A,
Inner City,
Brick,
Roger Hodgson,
This Heat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Copeland,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy Collins,
The American Breed,
Rekid,
LL Cool J,
Los Fastidios,
Moss Icon,
Grauzone,
Minny Pops,
Adolescents,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.