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 Grenada and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Robert Hood to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Vladislav Delay,
Technova,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
the Human League,
Black Pus,
Pylon,
Whodini,
Underground Resistance,
The Tremeloes,
Popol Vuh,
The Kinks,
Jeff Mills,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Association,
Franke,
Fad Gadget,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
Fela Kuti,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Slackers,
The Victims,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
The Offenders,
The Cowsills,
The Names,
Pierre Henry,
Guru Guru,
Howard Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hoover,
Minny Pops,
Cybotron,
Rod Modell,
Rotary Connection,
The Modern Lovers,
Mo-Dettes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tears for Fears,
Depeche Mode,
Stiv Bators,
The Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Eric B and Rakim,
Schoolly D,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shoche,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gichy Dan,
Spoonie Gee,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Sneak,
Jawbox,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Sheep,
U.S. Maple,
Altered Images,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.