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 Serbia 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Busters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
The Searchers,
Outsiders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lucky Dragons,
Fat Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Gabor Szabo,
Pole,
Cymande,
Fear,
Reuben Wilson,
Warsaw,
Animal Collective,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Style,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Cramps,
Ohio Players,
R.M.O.,
Black Pus,
Neu!,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
Terry Callier,
The Raincoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skriet,
L. Decosne,
Oneida,
Letta Mbulu,
Hardrive,
Kas Product,
The Skatalites,
Y Pants,
Rosa Yemen,
The Red Krayola,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hoover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alison Limerick,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nirvana,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharoah Sanders,
Faust,
Bang On A Can,
The Index,
Radiohead,
Schoolly D,
Cal Tjader,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Flag,
Popol Vuh,
Masters at Work,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.