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 Ecuador and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer 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 Spandau Ballet to the rap 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Negative Approach,
World's Most,
Prince Buster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Metal Thangz,
Chrome,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed,
Soft Machine,
Roxette,
Kas Product,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Liliput,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harpers Bizarre,
Byron Stingily,
Funkadelic,
Funky Four + One,
Joe Smooth,
Aswad,
Scientists,
Mo-Dettes,
Fluxion,
Flipper,
Make Up,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Faust,
Chris Corsano,
Rekid,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare,
The Last Poets,
Clear Light,
Half Japanese,
Steve Hackett,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
Das Ding,
John Lydon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Clarke,
CMW,
Country Joe & The Fish,
June Days,
Dennis Brown,
Mantronix,
Q and Not U,
The Birthday Party,
The Names,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.