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 South Africa and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron 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 T. Rex to the crunk 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Motions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New Order,
Porter Ricks,
Audionom,
Deadbeat,
Fatback Band,
The Misunderstood,
Index,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alice Coltrane,
cv313,
Intrusion,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pole,
the Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roxette,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quando Quango,
Popol Vuh,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter and Kerry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Basic Channel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Cale,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
Zapp,
Wally Richardson,
F. McDonald,
Harmonia,
the Association,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Germs,
Radiohead,
Susan Cadogan,
Tres Demented,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Neon Judgement,
Silicon Teens,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
Bluetip,
The Fugs,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed,
Khruangbin,
Glenn Branca,
Marshall Jefferson,
Slave,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faraquet,
Brick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sister Nancy,
David McCallum,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.