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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Wally Richardson to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moebius,
The Fuzztones,
Television,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eden Ahbez,
8 Eyed Spy,
Johnny Clarke,
Sandy B,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Wyatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
Pole,
Talk Talk,
Carl Craig,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
Rotary Connection,
Bootsy Collins,
The Leaves,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cluster,
The Cowsills,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Bananas,
Steve Hackett,
Josef K,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hoover,
Agitation Free,
The Gun Club,
Robert Görl,
John Foxx,
Dawn Penn,
Ultravox,
Subhumans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ludus,
Mr. Review,
Morten Harket,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Inner City,
Animal Collective,
Lightning Bolt,
Sonic Youth,
Aswad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flash Fearless,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
Shoche,
Los Fastidios,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.