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 Slovakia and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Skatalites to the dance 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerrie Biddell,
K-Klass,
The Durutti Column,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Bourne,
Slave,
Jawbox,
Glenn Branca,
Minor Threat,
Mantronix,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roxette,
Symarip,
Buzzcocks,
Marmalade,
Mars,
David Axelrod,
Adolescents,
Whodini,
Colin Newman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
CMW,
Urselle,
Jacob Miller,
Jeff Mills,
Fear,
Chris & Cosey,
The J.B.'s,
The Wake,
the Bar-Kays,
The Moody Blues,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris Corsano,
Quando Quango,
Terrestrial Tones,
T.S.O.L.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eddi Front,
Bob Dylan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Toasters,
Neil Young,
The Flesh Eaters,
Royal Trux,
Motorama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fortunes,
Rakim,
Mo-Dettes,
Ludus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anakelly,
Pantytec,
Steve Hackett,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Peter & Gordon,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.