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 Sudan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
D'Angelo,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeff Mills,
The Beau Brummels,
Trumans Water,
Roxy Music,
Drive Like Jehu,
Das Ding,
Cluster,
Moebius,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
Theoretical Girls,
Cameo,
Shuggie Otis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rekid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sparks,
Au Pairs,
Anakelly,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Livin' Joy,
Skriet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Urselle,
Bauhaus,
Unwound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Names,
Heaven 17,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
The American Breed,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jacob Miller,
Ornette Coleman,
The Martian,
Kayak,
10cc,
Junior Murvin,
Anthony Braxton,
Gabor Szabo,
Cal Tjader,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sarah Menescal,
Con Funk Shun,
Crooked Eye,
U.S. Maple,
Suburban Knight,
the Human League,
The Count Five,
Accadde A,
Adolescents,
The Mojo Men,
Thompson Twins,
Aaron Thompson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.