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 Georgia and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar 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 Qualms to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Mills,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Halsall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fad Gadget,
Kool Moe Dee,
Royal Trux,
The Dave Clark Five,
Colin Newman,
The Five Americans,
The Fugs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skriet,
Television,
Anakelly,
Visage,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
The Monks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Durutti Column,
The Mummies,
Robert Görl,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Radiohead,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
The Knickerbockers,
Yellowson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lyres,
Pulsallama,
The Golliwogs,
JFA,
Swell Maps,
Kenny Larkin,
Slick Rick,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fat Boys,
The Names,
Gichy Dan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jimmy McGriff,
Loose Ends,
Hoover,
Barrington Levy,
Tim Buckley,
Cymande,
Moss Icon,
Ten City,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
Echospace,
The Last Poets,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.