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 Burundi and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Offenders to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Holt,
Darondo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
JFA,
Wire,
Lyres,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Fugs,
The Busters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Magazine,
Joensuu 1685,
Organ,
Idris Muhammad,
Vladislav Delay,
The Saints,
Heaven 17,
Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Mr. Review,
Magma,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Bourne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Warsaw,
The Remains,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Popol Vuh,
Radiopuhelimet,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Skatalites,
Stereo Dub,
Barrington Levy,
Connie Case,
Sugar Minott,
Scan 7,
Section 25,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick Morgan,
Wally Richardson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Leonard Cohen,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultra Naté,
Crooked Eye,
The Gun Club,
Skaos,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.