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 Switzerland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 In Retrospect to the grime 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Black Pus,
ABBA,
Camouflage,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fortunes,
H. Thieme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
Eden Ahbez,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Stereo Dub,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Agent Orange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lower 48,
Sonic Youth,
a-ha,
Peter and Kerry,
The Residents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
These Immortal Souls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yellowson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
The Pretty Things,
Maleditus Sound,
Zapp,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fugs,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
The Moody Blues,
F. McDonald,
Grey Daturas,
The Moleskins,
Eddi Front,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Christie,
MDC,
Scott Walker,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kas Product,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bush Tetras,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed,
Youth Brigade,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Boredoms,
Inner City,
Fela Kuti,
Duran Duran,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.