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 Senegal and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Underground Resistance to the jazz 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gap Band,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
The Buckinghams,
DNA,
Gang Gang Dance,
Boz Scaggs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
K-Klass,
10cc,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alice Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
E-Dancer,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Parry Music,
The Fall,
Q and Not U,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boredoms,
Nils Olav,
Andrew Hill,
Das Ding,
Stetsasonic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Audionom,
Dark Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rekid,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare,
Howard Jones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Zapp,
The Stooges,
Animal Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Zeros,
Panda Bear,
This Heat,
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Walker Brothers,
Kas Product,
Liliput,
Marc Almond,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacob Miller,
Pierre Henry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Michelle Simonal,
Funkadelic,
Saccharine Trust,
Trumans Water,
Matthew Halsall,
Pantaleimon,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.