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 Honduras and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sound to the disco 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Index,
Easy Going,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hardrive,
Soft Machine,
Ossler,
a-ha,
Eurythmics,
John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
Procol Harum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lalann,
Soul II Soul,
Pussy Galore,
Anthony Braxton,
Ohio Players,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Ronnie Foster,
the Bar-Kays,
Ponytail,
Con Funk Shun,
Lower 48,
The Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
The Buckinghams,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Flag,
Urselle,
Hasil Adkins,
The Offenders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sparks,
Bad Manners,
Morten Harket,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chrome,
Cameo,
The Selecter,
Crime,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Nils Olav,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Walker Brothers,
ABBA,
T.S.O.L.,
Ten City,
Eve St. Jones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Divine Comedy,
Pole,
The Modern Lovers,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
The Monochrome Set,
Siglo XX,
The Five Americans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.