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 Burkina and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 Chris & Cosey to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Vainqueur,
Underground Resistance,
The Star Department,
The Slits,
Isaac Hayes,
Minnie Riperton,
The Selecter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Donny Hathaway,
The Motions,
Masters at Work,
Bad Manners,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Banda Bassotti,
Althea and Donna,
Suburban Knight,
Tim Buckley,
Nick Fraelich,
Al Stewart,
Ossler,
Sun Ra,
Blake Baxter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Glambeats Corp.,
Andrew Hill,
Scott Walker,
Warsaw,
Cameo,
Youth Brigade,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Residents,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare,
The Remains,
Moby Grape,
A Certain Ratio,
Terry Callier,
DJ Sneak,
Schoolly D,
Bill Near,
Magazine,
Mary Jane Girls,
David Axelrod,
The Moody Blues,
Joyce Sims,
Lyres,
Chrome,
Scientists,
Minutemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Erasure,
The Move,
Organ,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Association,
Mark Hollis,
The Misunderstood,
Unwound,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.