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 Nepal and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Brothers Johnson to the electroclash 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
This Heat,
Parry Music,
Second Layer,
Patti Smith,
Andrew Hill,
The Last Poets,
Alton Ellis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
Derrick May,
Sun City Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sarah Menescal,
Section 25,
AZ,
Groovy Waters,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cramps,
Barclay James Harvest,
Loose Ends,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
H. Thieme,
Zapp,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
JFA,
Tomorrow,
The Beau Brummels,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
Clear Light,
June Days,
The Selecter,
World's Most,
Stiv Bators,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Association,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Agent Orange,
Jawbox,
Althea and Donna,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
China Crisis,
T. Rex,
The Litter,
Ronnie Foster,
Toni Rubio,
Wally Richardson,
The Skatalites,
Talk Talk,
Howard Jones,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.