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 Tanzania and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Metal Thangz to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
China Crisis,
Roxy Music,
The Smoke,
Pantytec,
The Offenders,
Judy Mowatt,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roger Hodgson,
Masters at Work,
The Fugs,
John Foxx,
Barrington Levy,
Rotary Connection,
Minny Pops,
Rakim,
Radiohead,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Womack,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gun Club,
Animal Collective,
Blossom Toes,
Cameo,
The Vogues,
Ten City,
David Bowie,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fela Kuti,
FM Einheit,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Kurtis Blow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Prince Buster,
Kevin Saunderson,
UT,
Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Patti Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Joyce Sims,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cecil Taylor,
Moby Grape,
Crime,
Glenn Branca,
The Martian,
Crooked Eye,
Wings,
The Angels of Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Godley & Creme,
Underground Resistance,
D'Angelo,
JFA,
Sällskapet,
Ultravox,
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.