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 Bahrain and from Jakarta.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slits to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
Lou Christie,
Brick,
Ornette Coleman,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dennis Brown,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tommy Roe,
Minor Threat,
Bauhaus,
The Red Krayola,
The Buckinghams,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mission of Burma,
CMW,
Patti Smith,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke,
Eden Ahbez,
The Trojans,
The Fugs,
Deadbeat,
Sister Nancy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fortunes,
the Sonics,
Ice-T,
Clear Light,
Soft Cell,
E-Dancer,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wasted Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
H. Thieme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Schoolly D,
Godley & Creme,
Prince Buster,
The Barracudas,
Whodini,
The Selecter,
Grauzone,
Amon Düül,
Black Flag,
Tim Buckley,
Maurizio,
Sarah Menescal,
Suburban Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alphaville,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Black Dice,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
a-ha,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.