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 Mauritania and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Flipper,
Absolute Body Control,
Duran Duran,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Swans,
Radiohead,
LL Cool J,
Country Teasers,
ABBA,
Minnie Riperton,
The J.B.'s,
Quando Quango,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Buzzcocks,
The Kinks,
Aswad,
Slave,
ABC,
Robert Wyatt,
Ituana,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fat Boys,
Urselle,
Mars,
Nas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New Age Steppers,
Monolake,
the Association,
R.M.O.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Theoretical Girls,
Moebius,
The Residents,
L. Decosne,
Dead Boys,
The Sound,
Kayak,
KRS-One,
Barbara Tucker,
Scan 7,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Second Layer,
Ponytail,
Wings,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fugs,
The Beau Brummels,
The Count Five,
Carl Craig,
Moss Icon,
Yellowson,
X-102,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pulsallama,
T.S.O.L.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eden Ahbez,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.