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 the UAE and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Fire Engines to the rap 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers,
Suburban Knight,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roxy Music,
Hoover,
Faust,
Ice-T,
Interpol,
Maleditus Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
Au Pairs,
Hashim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scion,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül II,
Lungfish,
Judy Mowatt,
David Axelrod,
James White and The Blacks,
In Retrospect,
Talk Talk,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gories,
The Mummies,
Crooked Eye,
Roxette,
June Days,
Barrington Levy,
Guru Guru,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
the Fania All-Stars,
The New Christs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande,
Agitation Free,
Alton Ellis,
Tears for Fears,
The Smoke,
Livin' Joy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The American Breed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Leonard Cohen,
Ornette Coleman,
Pulsallama,
The Star Department,
Qualms,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
Organ,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dirtbombs,
U.S. Maple,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.