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 El Salvador and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Pussy Galore to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Barry Ungar,
Mandrill,
The American Breed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Whodini,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The United States of America,
B.T. Express,
Camouflage,
the Germs,
Sugar Minott,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chrome,
KRS-One,
Urselle,
Fat Boys,
Mad Mike,
U.S. Maple,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nils Olav,
Angry Samoans,
10cc,
The Searchers,
Severed Heads,
Hasil Adkins,
Darondo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
H. Thieme,
the Slits,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cure,
Massinfluence,
The Golliwogs,
Brass Construction,
Interpol,
Aswad,
Black Sheep,
The Birthday Party,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fugazi,
Isaac Hayes,
The Count Five,
Bill Near,
The Doors,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minor Threat,
Roger Hodgson,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Hood,
Mantronix,
One Last Wish,
The Fall,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grey Daturas,
Althea and Donna,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.