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 Ghana and from Lille.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Loose Ends to the punk 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Whodini,
Soulsonic Force,
New Age Steppers,
Deepchord,
Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
UT,
Charles Mingus,
The Names,
Lalann,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
Mo-Dettes,
Aural Exciters,
Bill Near,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arab on Radar,
Reagan Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Unwound,
Harpers Bizarre,
AZ,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Sneak,
Colin Newman,
The Moody Blues,
John Lydon,
DJ Style,
kango's stein massive,
The Offenders,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Hood,
New Order,
Vladislav Delay,
Nirvana,
Robert Wyatt,
Joy Division,
Maurizio,
Can,
Donald Byrd,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radio Birdman,
The Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Ohio Players,
John Holt,
Piero Umiliani,
Kenny Larkin,
CMW,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.