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 Guinea-Bissau and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scratch Acid to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Zapp,
Arab on Radar,
Nils Olav,
Cluster,
Amazonics,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anakelly,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
Jerry's Kids,
kango's stein massive,
Make Up,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Accadde A,
Man Parrish,
Roger Hodgson,
Pussy Galore,
Radio Birdman,
Crime,
Steve Hackett,
The Beau Brummels,
Quantec,
Desert Stars,
Underground Resistance,
Graham Central Station,
Boredoms,
The Grass Roots,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeff Lynne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Byron Stingily,
Pantytec,
The Electric Prunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chrome,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vainqueur,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Barracudas,
The Angels of Light,
Camberwell Now,
Sister Nancy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Saints,
Funky Four + One,
Von Mondo,
Kurtis Blow,
Chris Corsano,
The Count Five,
Symarip,
Boogie Down Productions,
Q and Not U,
Thompson Twins,
Theoretical Girls,
The Vogues,
The Standells,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.