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 Norway and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Robert Palmer 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
L. Decosne,
The Blackbyrds,
The J.B.'s,
The Zeros,
Lebanon Hanover,
Colin Newman,
Scrapy,
Swans,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed,
Massinfluence,
Ronnie Foster,
Harry Pussy,
In Retrospect,
Spoonie Gee,
Moby Grape,
Symarip,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Banda Bassotti,
Danielle Patucci,
the Association,
The Barracudas,
John Foxx,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warren Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bad Manners,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Panda Bear,
K-Klass,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Lynne,
The Vogues,
Blossom Toes,
Severed Heads,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
The Index,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
Cymande,
The Grass Roots,
Sparks,
Johnny Clarke,
Sandy B,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nirvana,
Pierre Henry,
cv313,
Camberwell Now,
Q and Not U,
The Litter,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.