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 Benin and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Vladislav Delay to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Bootsy Collins,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faraquet,
Iggy Pop,
Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
Connie Case,
The Tremeloes,
Michelle Simonal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Excepter,
Crime,
Jerry's Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lungfish,
X-Ray Spex,
Deadbeat,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
Slave,
Derrick May,
Tomorrow,
David Axelrod,
Skarface,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oneida,
Joe Finger,
Mr. Review,
The Trojans,
Electric Prunes,
Lebanon Hanover,
MDC,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
Soft Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rosa Yemen,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Shuggie Otis,
Tom Boy,
Anthony Braxton,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Clarke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warren Ellis,
The Gun Club,
Mission of Burma,
Siglo XX,
Swell Maps,
The Smiths,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quadrant,
OOIOO,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sällskapet,
Suicide,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.