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 Cuba and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lou Christie to the grime 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun City Girls,
Section 25,
Sister Nancy,
Infiniti,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
The Cowsills,
The Remains,
Stetsasonic,
Altered Images,
Sight & Sound,
Wire,
Nils Olav,
Moby Grape,
Swans,
Rufus Thomas,
Procol Harum,
OOIOO,
Dennis Brown,
Yazoo,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Black Dice,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Young Rascals,
Liliput,
Traffic Nightmare,
Matthew Bourne,
Parry Music,
Soul II Soul,
The Tremeloes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Royal Trux,
Y Pants,
Colin Newman,
The Moleskins,
Yusef Lateef,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Pus,
Make Up,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
Scan 7,
Kayak,
Desert Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sandy B,
Excepter,
Glenn Branca,
Roy Ayers,
Boredoms,
Henry Cow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.