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 Dominican Republic 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sandy B to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Ken Boothe,
The Velvet Underground,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
The Mummies,
Laurel Aitken,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gong,
James White and The Blacks,
U.S. Maple,
Bronski Beat,
Janne Schatter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
The Victims,
The Happenings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oneida,
Harry Pussy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joy Division,
Unrelated Segments,
The Count Five,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maleditus Sound,
The Move,
The Gladiators,
Lower 48,
Model 500,
Average White Band,
Scan 7,
Slick Rick,
The Raincoats,
The Martian,
Boz Scaggs,
Funky Four + One,
Vainqueur,
Scratch Acid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Hardrive,
Pylon,
Minnie Riperton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Derrick Morgan,
Fela Kuti,
Hashim,
Gabor Szabo,
Royal Trux,
China Crisis,
The Mojo Men,
Peter and Kerry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.