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 Georgia and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Popol Vuh,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pole,
Maleditus Sound,
Malaria!,
the Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash,
Don Cherry,
Colin Newman,
Harry Pussy,
The Victims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Buckinghams,
Bad Manners,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Zeros,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joe Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
Janne Schatter,
Icehouse,
Depeche Mode,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
This Heat,
Lower 48,
EPMD,
Liliput,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pet Shop Boys,
H. Thieme,
Delta 5,
The Music Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Matthew Bourne,
Pantaleimon,
Wally Richardson,
Slick Rick,
The Skatalites,
The Offenders,
Moby Grape,
Derrick Morgan,
The Associates,
The Slackers,
The Happenings,
Crooked Eye,
kango's stein massive,
Inner City,
Lou Reed,
The Trojans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Flipper,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Henry Cow,
Make Up,
Aswad,
The Mummies,
B.T. Express,
Hardrive,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.