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 Namibia and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb 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 Altered Images to the grime 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav 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?
Brass Construction,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Fugs,
Eddi Front,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Real Kids,
Soft Cell,
Lyres,
Urselle,
The Gladiators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pylon,
John Foxx,
Smog,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flash Fearless,
Jeru the Damaja,
Saccharine Trust,
James White and The Blacks,
Pulsallama,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
Sonny Sharrock,
Metal Thangz,
The Selecter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Porter Ricks,
Camberwell Now,
Marmalade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang of Four,
Barrington Levy,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Modern Lovers,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Index,
Harry Pussy,
Barry Ungar,
Ituana,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scratch Acid,
Fear,
Barbara Tucker,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thee Headcoats,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Byron Stingily,
Shoche,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Byrd,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.