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 Niger and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
The Cowsills,
Jerry's Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeff Mills,
Thee Headcoats,
Wally Richardson,
Joey Negro,
Section 25,
Byron Stingily,
Joy Division,
The J.B.'s,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Metal Thangz,
Mission of Burma,
The Gories,
Barclay James Harvest,
Theoretical Girls,
The Red Krayola,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Steve Hackett,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suicide,
Kurtis Blow,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fad Gadget,
The Techniques,
Scott Walker,
David Bowie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jandek,
Dark Day,
The Busters,
Nik Kershaw,
Anakelly,
Pole,
The Velvet Underground,
The Neon Judgement,
The Residents,
Masters at Work,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
Easy Going,
Siglo XX,
Agent Orange,
Boz Scaggs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
A Certain Ratio,
The Slits,
Second Layer,
Ohio Players,
The Happenings,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.