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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Doors to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Soft Machine,
Q and Not U,
Byron Stingily,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Swans,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Connie Case,
Nirvana,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
New Order,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ludus,
Suicide,
Jeff Mills,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gladiators,
Boz Scaggs,
Patti Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Mad Mike,
The Cowsills,
The Music Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deakin,
Harry Pussy,
The Busters,
The Offenders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Accadde A,
Parry Music,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
Goldenarms,
The Buckinghams,
Heaven 17,
Marshall Jefferson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yusef Lateef,
This Heat,
Gang Starr,
LL Cool J,
The Count Five,
Deadbeat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pet Shop Boys,
June of 44,
Monks,
Hot Snakes,
Maleditus Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Alton Ellis,
48th St. Collective,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.