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 Morocco and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Bananas to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The Alarm Clocks,
Urselle,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aaron Thompson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Henry Cow,
Lindisfarne,
Simply Red,
The Human League,
Black Bananas,
Sparks,
Ponytail,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Slits,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fatback Band,
Idris Muhammad,
The Golliwogs,
Visage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
EPMD,
The Toasters,
The Mojo Men,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gap Band,
Can,
Sarah Menescal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brick,
Q and Not U,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Byrd,
Chrome,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cure,
Soft Machine,
Babytalk,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Erykah Badu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
10cc,
These Immortal Souls,
The Zeros,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxette,
The Pretty Things,
Eddi Front,
Panda Bear,
The Barracudas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Wyatt,
MC5,
Mars,
China Crisis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.