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 Georgia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Quantec to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Wasted Youth,
Hardrive,
Nation of Ulysses,
Altered Images,
Vladislav Delay,
FM Einheit,
Connie Case,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
Jawbox,
Sixth Finger,
The Cure,
World's Most,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronan,
Lou Christie,
Tres Demented,
Soulsonic Force,
Easy Going,
Ultravox,
Marvin Gaye,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slits,
Rotary Connection,
Minny Pops,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris & Cosey,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
The Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scientists,
Con Funk Shun,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Zapp,
The Remains,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tommy Roe,
Siglo XX,
The American Breed,
Lyres,
Fat Boys,
Neil Young,
Roxette,
Parry Music,
The Last Poets,
Sällskapet,
The Black Dice,
The Skatalites,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.