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 Tunisia and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
June of 44,
Chris Corsano,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sparks,
a-ha,
Moss Icon,
Khruangbin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stiv Bators,
The Gladiators,
Circle Jerks,
Delta 5,
Kayak,
Nico,
The Invisible,
The Divine Comedy,
U.S. Maple,
Pagans,
The Remains,
Cluster,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Steve Hackett,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Real Kids,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
Qualms,
Fluxion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
10cc,
Boredoms,
Charles Mingus,
Donald Byrd,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flash Fearless,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Guru Guru,
Eve St. Jones,
Rufus Thomas,
Barrington Levy,
Davy DMX,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amazonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Max Romeo,
cv313,
Robert Hood,
Hoover,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siglo XX,
Clear Light,
Connie Case,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.