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 Nicaragua and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Robert Wyatt to the crunk 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Eddi Front,
The Blackbyrds,
The Mummies,
World's Most,
Gang Green,
Arcadia,
Mark Hollis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pierre Henry,
Absolute Body Control,
Joe Finger,
The Saints,
Royal Trux,
Lower 48,
UT,
Ronnie Foster,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun City Girls,
John Lydon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Vogues,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Donald Byrd,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Sonics,
Urselle,
Delta 5,
Eurythmics,
Quantec,
The Grass Roots,
Chris Corsano,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Soft Cell,
The Monochrome Set,
Neil Young,
Yaz,
Amon Düül,
Kurtis Blow,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
Quadrant,
Wings,
Inner City,
Moebius,
Marc Almond,
Cecil Taylor,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Heaven 17,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Piero Umiliani,
Fugazi,
The Real Kids,
Minutemen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pagans,
The Fortunes,
Neu!,
The Wake,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.