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 Chile and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Roxy Music to the techno 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fortunes,
The J.B.'s,
Wasted Youth,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reagan Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neu!,
Gong,
Magma,
New Age Steppers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Colin Newman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brand Nubian,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Pop Group,
Robert Görl,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cal Tjader,
Sällskapet,
The Blackbyrds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Darondo,
Amon Düül,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Theoretical Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Sight & Sound,
10cc,
Make Up,
Sun City Girls,
Nirvana,
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
The Red Krayola,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Prince Buster,
Lower 48,
Blancmange,
Althea and Donna,
Shuggie Otis,
Godley & Creme,
Fela Kuti,
Ornette Coleman,
Michelle Simonal,
Nik Kershaw,
Nas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
Radiohead,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Guru Guru,
Jandek,
World's Most,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.