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 Ethiopia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ultra Naté to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Graham Central Station,
Intrusion,
The Stooges,
10cc,
Stetsasonic,
Malaria!,
Procol Harum,
Los Fastidios,
Marine Girls,
Grey Daturas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scratch Acid,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Basic Channel,
Alphaville,
Faraquet,
Alton Ellis,
Wire,
Lungfish,
Idris Muhammad,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siglo XX,
Tommy Roe,
D'Angelo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hoover,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joe Smooth,
The Slits,
The Evens,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Anakelly,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Animal Collective,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Pus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang of Four,
Piero Umiliani,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
Funkadelic,
Letta Mbulu,
Joy Division,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
JFA,
Soul II Soul,
X-102,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.