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 Swaziland and from New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Standells to the rap 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barry Ungar,
Arcadia,
The Buckinghams,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeff Mills,
Chris & Cosey,
Dennis Brown,
Saccharine Trust,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi,
Stiv Bators,
Adolescents,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
Nico,
Little Man,
Television Personalities,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Alison Limerick,
Anakelly,
Eve St. Jones,
The Victims,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Selecter,
Interpol,
Danielle Patucci,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Wells,
Lucky Dragons,
Dawn Penn,
Sister Nancy,
K-Klass,
John Holt,
Faraquet,
Idris Muhammad,
Theoretical Girls,
Eric Copeland,
Sixth Finger,
JFA,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cramps,
Motorama,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Guru Guru,
Soft Cell,
AZ,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Raincoats,
Lalann,
Carl Craig,
Ronnie Foster,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.