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 Slovakia and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tears for Fears to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Bill Wells,
Severed Heads,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Vogues,
D'Angelo,
Dark Day,
Chrome,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fat Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Cluster,
the Swans,
The Fortunes,
Danielle Patucci,
Panda Bear,
Subhumans,
China Crisis,
The Mummies,
Pantytec,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Soft Machine,
Deepchord,
Gabor Szabo,
Chris & Cosey,
the Association,
Barry Ungar,
The Pop Group,
Ultra Naté,
The Doors,
Charles Mingus,
Arcadia,
Reuben Wilson,
Mad Mike,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Order,
Urselle,
F. McDonald,
Los Fastidios,
John Cale,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stiv Bators,
Ludus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Slits,
Magma,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
Metal Thangz,
The United States of America,
Stereo Dub,
Nas,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Misunderstood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
R.M.O.,
The Zeros,
Black Bananas,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.