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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Copeland,
Glambeats Corp.,
Y Pants,
China Crisis,
Swans,
The Velvet Underground,
Colin Newman,
These Immortal Souls,
Pulsallama,
The Wake,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Halsall,
Girls At Our Best!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brick,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Alison Limerick,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
Icehouse,
MDC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
Judy Mowatt,
The Motions,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Foxx,
Sexual Harrassment,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donald Byrd,
Flipper,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythm & Sound,
New York Dolls,
Arab on Radar,
Maleditus Sound,
Zero Boys,
Henry Cow,
Outsiders,
Nils Olav,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Human League,
Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cure,
John Coltrane,
the Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Martian,
DJ Sneak,
Silicon Teens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Starr,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.