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 Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Second Layer to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
The Barracudas,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Livin' Joy,
Warsaw,
Dave Gahan,
Organ,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pop Group,
Ken Boothe,
The Seeds,
10cc,
Newcleus,
Sex Pistols,
Idris Muhammad,
Arthur Verocai,
Flash Fearless,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Skarface,
Mo-Dettes,
Graham Central Station,
The Residents,
The Gap Band,
Little Man,
Chris Corsano,
the Slits,
Faraquet,
David Axelrod,
Anakelly,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronan,
The Standells,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
cv313,
John Foxx,
Audionom,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Victims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lightning Bolt,
Shoche,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tres Demented,
Sugar Minott,
Icehouse,
Prince Buster,
Jeff Mills,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Görl,
Mantronix,
Man Eating Sloth,
Can,
Radio Birdman,
Q65,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.