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 Afghanistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe 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 The Shadows of Knight to the rap 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Scrapy,
Godley & Creme,
Lakeside,
Nation of Ulysses,
Spoonie Gee,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Wells,
the Association,
Interpol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wings,
Juan Atkins,
the Slits,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Wyatt,
Rod Modell,
Technova,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Massinfluence,
The Searchers,
The Stooges,
The Black Dice,
John Lydon,
Shoche,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bang On A Can,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Althea and Donna,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
UT,
Minnie Riperton,
Pagans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Altered Images,
The Cramps,
Average White Band,
Eurythmics,
Rotary Connection,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kas Product,
AZ,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Clarke,
Steve Hackett,
Scion,
Symarip,
Robert Hood,
Suburban Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Arthur Verocai,
Marc Almond,
Yusef Lateef,
June Days,
Wire,
A Certain Ratio,
Blancmange,
Yazoo,
Cluster,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.