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 Norway and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Unrelated Segments to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
Panda Bear,
the Soft Cell,
Duran Duran,
Ultravox,
L. Decosne,
The Kinks,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
John Lydon,
Robert Wyatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Symarip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yaz,
Spandau Ballet,
Newcleus,
The Fuzztones,
Marine Girls,
Model 500,
Minutemen,
Altered Images,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
In Retrospect,
The Skatalites,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Durutti Column,
Lyres,
The Flesh Eaters,
Peter & Gordon,
Kaleidoscope,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
The Birthday Party,
Fluxion,
Second Layer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shoche,
The Divine Comedy,
Connie Case,
Rhythm & Sound,
Suburban Knight,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blackbyrds,
Zapp,
Vainqueur,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Adolescents,
Circle Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Whodini,
Infiniti,
Johnny Clarke,
the Association,
Agent Orange,
Warren Ellis,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.