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 Suriname and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Max Romeo,
Country Teasers,
Unrelated Segments,
Bob Dylan,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers,
Hasil Adkins,
Niagra,
The Saints,
Aswad,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Theoretical Girls,
John Coltrane,
Quadrant,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Peter and Kerry,
Nik Kershaw,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agitation Free,
E-Dancer,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
PIL,
Thompson Twins,
Tubeway Army,
Warsaw,
Stiv Bators,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Near,
Tim Buckley,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Barracudas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Can,
Jandek,
Bluetip,
Warren Ellis,
Kayak,
Gang Gang Dance,
Toni Rubio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
KRS-One,
Cymande,
Negative Approach,
Monolake,
Charles Mingus,
Soul II Soul,
Los Fastidios,
Malaria!,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.