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 Armenia and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Mo-Dettes,
Neu!,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
Rotary Connection,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moody Blues,
Ludus,
Mandrill,
Circle Jerks,
Faraquet,
H. Thieme,
Robert Wyatt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fire Engines,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Blake Baxter,
The Buckinghams,
A Certain Ratio,
Davy DMX,
DJ Sneak,
Ossler,
Los Fastidios,
Ten City,
James White and The Blacks,
Tubeway Army,
Colin Newman,
Dead Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
DJ Style,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Saints,
Roxette,
Eli Mardock,
Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Yusef Lateef,
LL Cool J,
John Foxx,
Crash Course in Science,
Rapeman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
Crispian St. Peters,
Urselle,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Quando Quango,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
One Last Wish,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABC,
Boredoms,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.