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 Dominica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deepchord to the grime 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Martian,
Minutemen,
The Vogues,
The Remains,
Loose Ends,
Marmalade,
The Standells,
Underground Resistance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cluster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Neon Judgement,
Stiv Bators,
Rites of Spring,
Deakin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
cv313,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Interpol,
Godley & Creme,
Symarip,
The Searchers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Malaria!,
Sound Behaviour,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare,
John Coltrane,
Hoover,
Neu!,
Rod Modell,
Spandau Ballet,
Deadbeat,
Mantronix,
Audionom,
Brass Construction,
The Buckinghams,
Franke,
Black Pus,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultra Naté,
Rapeman,
Flash Fearless,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Youth Brigade,
Scott Walker,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lungfish,
Dark Day,
MC5,
Chris & Cosey,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.