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 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Steve Hackett to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Scan 7,
Wasted Youth,
Hardrive,
Desert Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wings,
Pantaleimon,
Eurythmics,
The Leaves,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
The Seeds,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mission of Burma,
La Düsseldorf,
Tears for Fears,
The Cowsills,
Intrusion,
The Beau Brummels,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
F. McDonald,
Quadrant,
Ken Boothe,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
The Martian,
The Red Krayola,
Vladislav Delay,
Iggy Pop,
The Selecter,
Massinfluence,
Newcleus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barrington Levy,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Mills,
The Moody Blues,
The Real Kids,
Section 25,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Wyatt,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fire Engines,
the Sonics,
Prince Buster,
Little Man,
Grey Daturas,
The Birthday Party,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Accadde A,
Parry Music,
Kayak,
The Gladiators,
Quantec,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Terry Callier,
Junior Murvin,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.