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 Bahamas and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Jeff Lynne to the electroclash 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stiv Bators,
The Red Krayola,
Cluster,
New Order,
John Foxx,
Oblivians,
Ice-T,
Gastr Del Sol,
Isaac Hayes,
Max Romeo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Sonics,
Sugar Minott,
Parry Music,
The Techniques,
Silicon Teens,
Aural Exciters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeff Mills,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül II,
Aaron Thompson,
Niagra,
Pantytec,
Sällskapet,
Y Pants,
Franke,
Procol Harum,
Wally Richardson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thompson Twins,
John Cale,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Spoonie Gee,
Deepchord,
Jandek,
Pantaleimon,
Spandau Ballet,
Gichy Dan,
Sandy B,
Rapeman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
The Stooges,
Jacob Miller,
Sister Nancy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dave Gahan,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispian St. Peters,
48th St. Collective,
Ultravox,
Bronski Beat,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott Heron,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.