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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Darondo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Q and Not U,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stiv Bators,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gong,
The Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Womack,
These Immortal Souls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Los Fastidios,
Lakeside,
Donald Byrd,
MDC,
The Evens,
Simply Red,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kayak,
The Pop Group,
Ronan,
The Pretty Things,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Adolescents,
Mr. Review,
Roxette,
Andrew Hill,
Blancmange,
The Alarm Clocks,
Albert Ayler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Max Romeo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Sherman,
The Star Department,
Sugar Minott,
Guru Guru,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Toasters,
Toni Rubio,
The Invisible,
The Young Rascals,
Y Pants,
Sonic Youth,
Sparks,
Howard Jones,
Tim Buckley,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Coltrane,
Leonard Cohen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dennis Brown,
Little Man,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.