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 Cyprus and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
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 clarinet 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 Pantytec to the techno 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Ronan,
Todd Terry,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
The Selecter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Make Up,
Tubeway Army,
Hashim,
Jeff Lynne,
Duran Duran,
Mark Hollis,
Skriet,
Ultra Naté,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Order,
The Monochrome Set,
John Cale,
Radio Birdman,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Technova,
Rod Modell,
Minnie Riperton,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Skarface,
One Last Wish,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Human League,
T. Rex,
Sandy B,
Mo-Dettes,
Kas Product,
The Mummies,
Bush Tetras,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
The Evens,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
Nils Olav,
Quadrant,
Sight & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
The Dead C,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains,
Yellowson,
Lakeside,
L. Decosne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dual Sessions,
Soul II Soul,
Bootsy Collins,
Banda Bassotti,
Deakin,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.