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 South Sudan and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the crunk 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Suburban Knight,
Lalann,
DJ Sneak,
Rod Modell,
Bush Tetras,
OOIOO,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Parry Music,
Black Pus,
Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
The Invisible,
Niagra,
The Dead C,
Circle Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Happenings,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Schoolly D,
Inner City,
Brand Nubian,
Jandek,
Royal Trux,
Funky Four + One,
Siglo XX,
Peter & Gordon,
Ten City,
Barry Ungar,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Quadrant,
Harmonia,
Lungfish,
Cluster,
PIL,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
MDC,
the Swans,
Andrew Hill,
Massinfluence,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vladislav Delay,
The Pretty Things,
In Retrospect,
Chris Corsano,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Beau Brummels,
Arcadia,
Spoonie Gee,
Charles Mingus,
Altered Images,
Procol Harum,
Slave,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.