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 San Marino and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lou Reed 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 Lower 48 to the disco 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Kayak,
Tim Buckley,
Lightning Bolt,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
Brick,
The Move,
The American Breed,
Lucky Dragons,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Reagan Youth,
Section 25,
The New Christs,
Suicide,
Sällskapet,
CMW,
The Vogues,
Pagans,
Television Personalities,
The Skatalites,
Deakin,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
These Immortal Souls,
Mission of Burma,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T. Rex,
Warren Ellis,
Das Ding,
Joyce Sims,
Blancmange,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Hot Snakes,
Ronan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moss Icon,
Jandek,
Roy Ayers,
The Stooges,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Kenny Larkin,
The Human League,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boredoms,
The Pretty Things,
a-ha,
The Happenings,
Cal Tjader,
Susan Cadogan,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Popol Vuh,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.