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 Paraguay and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 K-Klass to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Talk Talk,
the Sonics,
The Skatalites,
The Standells,
Thee Headcoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sixth Finger,
Roxette,
B.T. Express,
Lou Christie,
Scrapy,
The Pop Group,
Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Camouflage,
Ultra Naté,
Connie Case,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masters at Work,
Q and Not U,
The Durutti Column,
Hardrive,
The Velvet Underground,
The Moody Blues,
Bob Dylan,
Carl Craig,
Lower 48,
Radio Birdman,
Porter Ricks,
Freddie Wadling,
Chris Corsano,
New Age Steppers,
Babytalk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Icehouse,
Flamin' Groovies,
L. Decosne,
The Dirtbombs,
Ponytail,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
Main Source,
Fear,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Steve Hackett,
Iggy Pop,
Japan,
The New Christs,
The Last Poets,
kango's stein massive,
Desert Stars,
CMW,
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Near,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.