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 Indonesia and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
The Residents,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
Johnny Clarke,
The Gladiators,
Bauhaus,
the Bar-Kays,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Khruangbin,
Marine Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Darondo,
Grey Daturas,
the Normal,
Warsaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Knickerbockers,
Carl Craig,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Schoolly D,
Todd Rundgren,
Aaron Thompson,
The Happenings,
Eric Dolphy,
Wire,
Sexual Harrassment,
Negative Approach,
Prince Buster,
K-Klass,
Rites of Spring,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Terrestrial Tones,
Little Man,
the Germs,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Görl,
Marmalade,
The Selecter,
Arthur Verocai,
Sparks,
Leonard Cohen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mr. Review,
Yellowson,
10cc,
John Lydon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vainqueur,
The Fortunes,
Thee Headcoats,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Accadde A,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
T.S.O.L.,
Pere Ubu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Interpol,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.