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 Latvia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gregory Isaacs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Near,
H. Thieme,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun City Girls,
Yaz,
Interpol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Victims,
Ludus,
Intrusion,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Morten Harket,
Jerry's Kids,
Danielle Patucci,
Half Japanese,
Tommy Roe,
Heaven 17,
The Star Department,
Joe Finger,
Deadbeat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeff Mills,
Excepter,
Scientists,
The Music Machine,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Slits,
Amazonics,
the Association,
The Barracudas,
Pylon,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fall,
One Last Wish,
Al Stewart,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lindisfarne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronan,
June of 44,
Popol Vuh,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camberwell Now,
Janne Schatter,
Index,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Warsaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Fania All-Stars,
DNA,
Cluster,
Barrington Levy,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.