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 Mongolia and from Delhi.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Harpers Bizarre to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Average White Band,
John Holt,
Bluetip,
The Smiths,
Hoover,
Black Bananas,
Mark Hollis,
The Zeros,
Popol Vuh,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
Darondo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Starr,
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dead C,
Fela Kuti,
Blancmange,
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
Das Ding,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ronan,
Glambeats Corp.,
T.S.O.L.,
Dead Boys,
ABBA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
U.S. Maple,
Mad Mike,
Intrusion,
Icehouse,
Cluster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fluxion,
Nico,
Max Romeo,
The Vogues,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mandrill,
Scan 7,
Livin' Joy,
Animal Collective,
Ossler,
John Foxx,
Gang Green,
Alice Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Negative Approach,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
R.M.O.,
John Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.