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 Barbados and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Roxy Music to the dance 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Anthony Braxton,
Hoover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joey Negro,
Jerry's Kids,
Ten City,
Y Pants,
Ultra Naté,
Half Japanese,
Procol Harum,
Man Eating Sloth,
FM Einheit,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smiths,
The Knickerbockers,
Dual Sessions,
Metal Thangz,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick May,
Prince Buster,
Monolake,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ken Boothe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
Stetsasonic,
Motorama,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sight & Sound,
Scan 7,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Organ,
The Seeds,
The Martian,
Isaac Hayes,
Guru Guru,
The Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Royal Trux,
the Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camouflage,
Quantec,
Lou Reed,
Arcadia,
Ituana,
Trumans Water,
Andrew Hill,
Black Moon,
Byron Stingily,
Skaos,
X-101,
Newcleus,
Iggy Pop,
Vladislav Delay,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.