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 Mexico and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Livin' Joy,
The J.B.'s,
The Zeros,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
Moby Grape,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
The Raincoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
The Vogues,
Brand Nubian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
Scan 7,
Magazine,
The Wake,
The Grass Roots,
Letta Mbulu,
Infiniti,
cv313,
Max Romeo,
MDC,
the Human League,
Urselle,
Angry Samoans,
Reuben Wilson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
John Holt,
Bobby Byrd,
Stiv Bators,
Aloha Tigers,
Mad Mike,
Davy DMX,
Ossler,
Crash Course in Science,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scion,
The Trojans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Q65,
Spandau Ballet,
ABBA,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Doors,
Khruangbin,
Darondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Girls At Our Best!,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.