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 Thailand and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 L. Decosne to the techno 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Loose Ends,
Ronnie Foster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Trojans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Bananas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Coltrane,
Mars,
Depeche Mode,
Clear Light,
Barry Ungar,
Theoretical Girls,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rakim,
Hoover,
X-102,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kool Moe Dee,
Infiniti,
Al Stewart,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Faraquet,
Oblivians,
The Barracudas,
Los Fastidios,
Mantronix,
Roger Hodgson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Faust,
Yazoo,
The Velvet Underground,
Maleditus Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Colin Newman,
Niagra,
The Durutti Column,
The Modern Lovers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Swell Maps,
The Birthday Party,
Skaos,
T. Rex,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Model 500,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave,
Ash Ra Tempel,
This Heat,
Yaz,
Excepter,
T.S.O.L.,
Negative Approach,
The Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.