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 Liberia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the grunge 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cowsills,
Roxy Music,
Robert Hood,
Darondo,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Happenings,
Joe Smooth,
Camberwell Now,
Tom Boy,
DJ Sneak,
Zapp,
Yazoo,
Gichy Dan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Buzzcocks,
Charles Mingus,
Godley & Creme,
Unrelated Segments,
Chris & Cosey,
Intrusion,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
Tommy Roe,
Desert Stars,
the Swans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Dead C,
Letta Mbulu,
Maurizio,
Lungfish,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Brothers Johnson,
Lalann,
The Skatalites,
D'Angelo,
Youth Brigade,
Interpol,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang of Four,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Remains,
Excepter,
The Knickerbockers,
Vladislav Delay,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ken Boothe,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Durutti Column,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.