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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Crooked Eye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Arcadia,
Y Pants,
Neu!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Christie,
Television,
U.S. Maple,
Mars,
Au Pairs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siglo XX,
Kayak,
Crash Course in Science,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick May,
Curtis Mayfield,
Amon Düül II,
Vladislav Delay,
10cc,
Lalo Schifrin,
Urselle,
Warsaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
Stockholm Monsters,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
Alison Limerick,
The Walker Brothers,
Tres Demented,
Barbara Tucker,
Slave,
Pole,
Sam Rivers,
Arab on Radar,
Throbbing Gristle,
The United States of America,
OOIOO,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Wolf Eyes,
Mantronix,
Fear,
Mark Hollis,
Chrome,
Newcleus,
Alton Ellis,
Rod Modell,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
Freddie Wadling,
the Human League,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.