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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Bremen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Johnny Clarke to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Malaria!,
Vainqueur,
Lyres,
Lou Reed,
The Beau Brummels,
Toni Rubio,
The Move,
Hashim,
The Monks,
Black Pus,
The Five Americans,
Index,
Big Daddy Kane,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Womack,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ohio Players,
Juan Atkins,
Accadde A,
Grauzone,
Fad Gadget,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rod Modell,
Agent Orange,
Gong,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Alarm Clocks,
Symarip,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker,
Wire,
Josef K,
the Association,
Donny Hathaway,
Second Layer,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minutemen,
The Fugs,
Eddi Front,
a-ha,
Pantaleimon,
Colin Newman,
Depeche Mode,
Cybotron,
Gang Green,
Pierre Henry,
Siglo XX,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Black Dice,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tommy Roe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maleditus Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gories,
The Wake,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.