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 Liechtenstein and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Holger Czukay 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 Cowsills to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Little Man,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Newcleus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
H. Thieme,
Qualms,
Chris Corsano,
Kerri Chandler,
The Barracudas,
Aswad,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Loose Ends,
Sex Pistols,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pylon,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Litter,
Half Japanese,
Silicon Teens,
Bluetip,
Mars,
The Dead C,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed,
Joensuu 1685,
Toni Rubio,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
Cheater Slicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Searchers,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
The Vogues,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlback,
Public Enemy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
10cc,
Popol Vuh,
kango's stein massive,
The Pretty Things,
Lakeside,
Camouflage,
Urselle,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Sherman,
Hashim,
Rapeman,
Subhumans,
Erasure,
Blancmange,
Piero Umiliani,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.