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 Montenegro and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Quantec to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Kenny Larkin,
The Divine Comedy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Machine,
Sex Pistols,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
Amon Düül II,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ohio Players,
DNA,
Sonny Sharrock,
Angry Samoans,
Outsiders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Talk Talk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crime,
Inner City,
Radio Birdman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tomorrow,
Motorama,
Pylon,
Albert Ayler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Young Rascals,
Y Pants,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sugar Minott,
The American Breed,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Harry Pussy,
Sister Nancy,
The Dirtbombs,
John Foxx,
Masters at Work,
Average White Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
The Five Americans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Oneida,
The J.B.'s,
Mars,
Brothers Johnson,
UT,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
Essential Logic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Standells,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.