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 Tanzania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gregory Isaacs to the rap 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Walker Brothers,
The Toasters,
Organ,
48th St. Collective,
U.S. Maple,
PIL,
The United States of America,
The Busters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Electric Prunes,
Slave,
Big Daddy Kane,
Al Stewart,
Bluetip,
Gichy Dan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Searchers,
Camouflage,
Slick Rick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barbara Tucker,
Steve Hackett,
Robert Görl,
The Move,
Jerry's Kids,
Gong,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Grass Roots,
Yaz,
Leonard Cohen,
10cc,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter and Kerry,
Buzzcocks,
Minor Threat,
the Soft Cell,
The Standells,
Arcadia,
The Fall,
Procol Harum,
Smog,
Television Personalities,
Mr. Review,
Radiopuhelimet,
Malaria!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Duran Duran,
Crispian St. Peters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Slits,
Deadbeat,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bootsy Collins,
Pere Ubu,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.