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 Papua New Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 John Holt to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Duran Duran,
The Gories,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
Davy DMX,
Silicon Teens,
Boz Scaggs,
Rakim,
Pantytec,
Intrusion,
June Days,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
Peter & Gordon,
Hot Snakes,
Section 25,
The Offenders,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sällskapet,
Dawn Penn,
Jawbox,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Wyatt,
Letta Mbulu,
CMW,
Wings,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blackbyrds,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
OOIOO,
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Neon Judgement,
Can,
The Cure,
Pulsallama,
UT,
Kerrie Biddell,
Banda Bassotti,
Mandrill,
Junior Murvin,
Erasure,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-101,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
Television,
B.T. Express,
Bush Tetras,
Q65,
The Skatalites,
Motorama,
Skriet,
Brothers Johnson,
Dual Sessions,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.