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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Pop Group to the punk 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pulsallama,
Underground Resistance,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Flag,
The Barracudas,
Camouflage,
Magma,
Sugar Minott,
the Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fuzztones,
Freddie Wadling,
Q and Not U,
Joe Finger,
Wire,
Nirvana,
Lindisfarne,
Gang of Four,
Au Pairs,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
Darondo,
Slick Rick,
Amon Düül,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül II,
LL Cool J,
Pole,
Skriet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Whodini,
The Stooges,
Loose Ends,
Peter and Kerry,
Curtis Mayfield,
OOIOO,
Jacob Miller,
Alice Coltrane,
the Normal,
David Axelrod,
The Moleskins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crime,
Blancmange,
The Young Rascals,
Arcadia,
Connie Case,
Fela Kuti,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scan 7,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Ken Boothe,
Shoche,
The Pretty Things,
Sound Behaviour,
Dave Gahan,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.