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 Nauru and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kool Moe Dee to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Sneak,
Bootsy Collins,
The Golliwogs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Althea and Donna,
Rekid,
The Names,
X-102,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Guru Guru,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fela Kuti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Cale,
Surgeon,
Jeff Lynne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantytec,
The Trojans,
Symarip,
Lungfish,
Ludus,
Arcadia,
The Martian,
OOIOO,
Stiv Bators,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dirtbombs,
Charles Mingus,
The Birthday Party,
Sonic Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Sheep,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
Nils Olav,
The Monks,
The Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fear,
Bang On A Can,
cv313,
June Days,
Thompson Twins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fugazi,
Television,
Quadrant,
Swans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool Moe Dee,
Severed Heads,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.