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 Morocco and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 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 Sonny Sharrock to the techno 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Barry Ungar,
the Slits,
John Lydon,
DJ Sneak,
Von Mondo,
Juan Atkins,
Scrapy,
Skarface,
Lou Reed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Glenn Branca,
Cybotron,
Alison Limerick,
The Walker Brothers,
The Martian,
Bobby Womack,
Erykah Badu,
The Fire Engines,
Black Pus,
Althea and Donna,
Sixth Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Litter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Silicon Teens,
a-ha,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Q and Not U,
The Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Motorama,
The Sonics,
Skriet,
Roxette,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ossler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Youth Brigade,
Saccharine Trust,
Tomorrow,
Kerrie Biddell,
48th St. Collective,
Sight & Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour,
Yellowson,
Pussy Galore,
Dave Gahan,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Junior Murvin,
Livin' Joy,
Alton Ellis,
The Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.