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 Kyrgyzstan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mr. Review to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Lindisfarne,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Saccharine Trust,
Visage,
Nils Olav,
Country Teasers,
Yusef Lateef,
Au Pairs,
AZ,
Eve St. Jones,
Rapeman,
Reuben Wilson,
Moby Grape,
Yaz,
48th St. Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oneida,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
The Standells,
Dawn Penn,
Althea and Donna,
Mo-Dettes,
The Vogues,
Deadbeat,
Jacques Brel,
The Electric Prunes,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
Bush Tetras,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Barracudas,
Sex Pistols,
Lower 48,
Bill Wells,
Aural Exciters,
Chrome,
The Blackbyrds,
World's Most,
Guru Guru,
Sällskapet,
New Order,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mad Mike,
The Dirtbombs,
The Real Kids,
Little Man,
Amazonics,
Funkadelic,
the Swans,
OOIOO,
Monks,
This Heat,
Quando Quango,
Motorama,
Cybotron,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.