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 Equatorial Guinea and from Halifax.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 Gabor Szabo to the dance 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Pylon,
New York Dolls,
La Düsseldorf,
Deadbeat,
The Tremeloes,
Eddi Front,
Susan Cadogan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yellowson,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare,
Isaac Hayes,
Kenny Larkin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang of Four,
Marmalade,
The Moleskins,
Joyce Sims,
Rekid,
Charles Mingus,
Fela Kuti,
U.S. Maple,
Ultravox,
ABBA,
Dark Day,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Pus,
Jawbox,
Todd Rundgren,
Skaos,
Judy Mowatt,
Matthew Halsall,
Minny Pops,
The Invisible,
The Golliwogs,
Black Sheep,
Juan Atkins,
Hasil Adkins,
DNA,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Echospace,
The Trojans,
Spandau Ballet,
JFA,
Hashim,
Malaria!,
Nick Fraelich,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lyres,
X-102,
Nirvana,
Scion,
Lalann,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.