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 Philippines and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Robert Palmer 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 Parry Music to the funk 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Cecil Taylor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Germs,
Robert Hood,
The United States of America,
The Detroit Cobras,
Shoche,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ituana,
Camouflage,
Sex Pistols,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Popol Vuh,
The Moody Blues,
Hashim,
The Techniques,
The Angels of Light,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Leaves,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed,
La Düsseldorf,
Livin' Joy,
The J.B.'s,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marvin Gaye,
LL Cool J,
David McCallum,
The Busters,
The Associates,
Dark Day,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
Derrick May,
New York Dolls,
Hoover,
Tomorrow,
K-Klass,
Albert Ayler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rufus Thomas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cure,
Nico,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lightning Bolt,
Sixth Finger,
Half Japanese,
Accadde A,
Unwound,
Quantec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Byron Stingily,
Prince Buster,
Todd Rundgren,
Pulsallama,
Panda Bear,
The Walker Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.