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 Barbados and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
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 guitar 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 Terry Callier to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Peter & Gordon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
Cal Tjader,
The Velvet Underground,
The Tremeloes,
Little Man,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kerrie Biddell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Negative Approach,
Television Personalities,
Charles Mingus,
Sex Pistols,
Colin Newman,
Alice Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Barbara Tucker,
The Skatalites,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yaz,
Average White Band,
Eli Mardock,
Q65,
Franke,
Maleditus Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Inner City,
Magma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Neu!,
Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
kango's stein massive,
The J.B.'s,
Danielle Patucci,
The Five Americans,
Glambeats Corp.,
a-ha,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stereo Dub,
Tubeway Army,
ABC,
H. Thieme,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultravox,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Sneak,
Aswad,
FM Einheit,
Swell Maps,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.