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 Dominica and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum 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 David Bowie to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper 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?
Nico,
Cameo,
Judy Mowatt,
Letta Mbulu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yaz,
Warren Ellis,
Magma,
Danielle Patucci,
The Pretty Things,
Brand Nubian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Desert Stars,
Vainqueur,
David Axelrod,
The Grass Roots,
Sound Behaviour,
One Last Wish,
Average White Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arthur Verocai,
Drexciya,
Avey Tare,
The Remains,
Black Sheep,
The Associates,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Young Marble Giants,
Tubeway Army,
a-ha,
LL Cool J,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ten City,
Severed Heads,
the Association,
Amazonics,
Man Parrish,
Negative Approach,
The Index,
Byron Stingily,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cybotron,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Moss Icon,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Copeland,
Underground Resistance,
The Seeds,
Max Romeo,
The Dirtbombs,
Glenn Branca,
The Durutti Column,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harry Pussy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skarface,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.