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 Mexico and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Country Teasers to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Tomorrow,
Marine Girls,
X-102,
CMW,
The Leaves,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
Lalann,
Cheater Slicks,
Warsaw,
Cal Tjader,
Heaven 17,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Parry Music,
Zero Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Easy Going,
Gang Starr,
Thompson Twins,
Y Pants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Order,
Theoretical Girls,
Quantec,
Rakim,
Arab on Radar,
Arthur Verocai,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Womack,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dennis Brown,
Jeff Mills,
Leonard Cohen,
The Offenders,
Girls At Our Best!,
cv313,
Porter Ricks,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Outsiders,
Wings,
Inner City,
Drive Like Jehu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Names,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kool Moe Dee,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gap Band,
New Age Steppers,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
Severed Heads,
Scott Walker,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.