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 the UAE and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Pere Ubu to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Fat Boys,
The Names,
The Flesh Eaters,
Niagra,
Wasted Youth,
The Fire Engines,
the Association,
Ossler,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers,
Kayak,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Lydon,
Colin Newman,
Aaron Thompson,
Kaleidoscope,
Erasure,
Cal Tjader,
Quadrant,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Drexciya,
Stiv Bators,
The Trojans,
Lalann,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joe Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Trumans Water,
X-Ray Spex,
The Five Americans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
ABBA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Subhumans,
Arcadia,
Jandek,
Marine Girls,
Schoolly D,
Skaos,
DJ Style,
Lou Christie,
Robert Wyatt,
A Certain Ratio,
Groovy Waters,
Blossom Toes,
Banda Bassotti,
Ice-T,
Jawbox,
Pussy Galore,
China Crisis,
These Immortal Souls,
In Retrospect,
Massinfluence,
MDC,
the Normal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gichy Dan,
Siglo XX,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.