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 Cape Verde and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 Lightning Bolt to the disco 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Little Man,
James White and The Blacks,
John Lydon,
The Blackbyrds,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
The Fall,
The Last Poets,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fad Gadget,
Thompson Twins,
Tim Buckley,
Grauzone,
Eddi Front,
The Index,
Japan,
The Five Americans,
Moby Grape,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lakeside,
Adolescents,
Smog,
T.S.O.L.,
David McCallum,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minutemen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cameo,
Fluxion,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cramps,
Bootsy Collins,
Fela Kuti,
Joy Division,
Sugar Minott,
Peter and Kerry,
Nik Kershaw,
Erasure,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gun Club,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Henry Cow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Victims,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
Panda Bear,
Depeche Mode,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fuzztones,
The Happenings,
Morten Harket,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Yellowson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.