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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Howard Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
E-Dancer,
This Heat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
Throbbing Gristle,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Star Department,
AZ,
Lucky Dragons,
UT,
Warren Ellis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lakeside,
Slave,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Animal Collective,
The Gun Club,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
Au Pairs,
Bush Tetras,
Minor Threat,
David Bowie,
Hoover,
Thompson Twins,
John Lydon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barry Ungar,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Womack,
The Cramps,
Clear Light,
Bobby Byrd,
Gong,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rosa Yemen,
Vainqueur,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Residents,
The Dirtbombs,
Josef K,
Cameo,
the Sonics,
Jawbox,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Symarip,
Pussy Galore,
Magma,
Sixth Finger,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare,
The Last Poets,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
Rakim,
Mission of Burma,
Average White Band,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.