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 Mauritius 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Funkadelic to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cheater Slicks,
Maleditus Sound,
In Retrospect,
John Holt,
Von Mondo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Easy Going,
Hoover,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shoche,
Ponytail,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Remains,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Isaac Hayes,
Subhumans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Section 25,
Gang Gang Dance,
La Düsseldorf,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monolake,
The Searchers,
Bobby Sherman,
Animal Collective,
Howard Jones,
Heaven 17,
The Cramps,
Blossom Toes,
AZ,
Little Man,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gong,
Symarip,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans,
Clear Light,
Porter Ricks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Techniques,
Erykah Badu,
Susan Cadogan,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smoke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Erasure,
Agent Orange,
Half Japanese,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Japan,
Ohio Players,
Joey Negro,
Big Daddy Kane,
Godley & Creme,
a-ha,
The Five Americans,
The Raincoats,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.