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 Comoros and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slick Rick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New York Dolls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Soft Cell,
Bluetip,
the Swans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine,
Young Marble Giants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Zero Boys,
The Index,
Wally Richardson,
The Move,
Faust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
Skaos,
Faraquet,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Bananas,
Glenn Branca,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moby Grape,
Inner City,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mission of Burma,
X-101,
Iggy Pop,
Janne Schatter,
CMW,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Technova,
Desert Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eddi Front,
Sixth Finger,
R.M.O.,
cv313,
Intrusion,
The Real Kids,
Essential Logic,
Joe Smooth,
Erykah Badu,
Thompson Twins,
Eurythmics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Maleditus Sound,
David Bowie,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.