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 Greece and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peter and Kerry to the jazz 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
The Grass Roots,
Franke,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Malaria!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scan 7,
X-101,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gap Band,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Parrish,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
The Busters,
The Skatalites,
Henry Cow,
John Foxx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Babytalk,
Rites of Spring,
Inner City,
Frankie Knuckles,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
Ice-T,
Agitation Free,
Siglo XX,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Godley & Creme,
Stiv Bators,
Cybotron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Laurel Aitken,
The Evens,
The Knickerbockers,
The Modern Lovers,
The J.B.'s,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Depeche Mode,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Howard Jones,
Brick,
Sight & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Zero Boys,
Rapeman,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.