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 Bahrain and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Smiths,
Andrew Hill,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Henry Cow,
The Raincoats,
Dennis Brown,
Rekid,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
These Immortal Souls,
Kas Product,
Crime,
The Count Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fat Boys,
Moss Icon,
Banda Bassotti,
Maleditus Sound,
Visage,
Depeche Mode,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wings,
Faust,
Essential Logic,
Zapp,
Underground Resistance,
Crooked Eye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Laurel Aitken,
ABBA,
June Days,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Vladislav Delay,
Eli Mardock,
Rosa Yemen,
Mo-Dettes,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Ornette Coleman,
The Move,
Pere Ubu,
Bush Tetras,
The Associates,
Von Mondo,
Wolf Eyes,
Scientists,
The Misunderstood,
Joyce Sims,
The Angels of Light,
Soft Machine,
EPMD,
Mark Hollis,
The Skatalites,
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
Prince Buster,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Angry Samoans,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.