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 Tunisia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the techno 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Ultra Naté,
The Golliwogs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick Morgan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Pylon,
The Associates,
Outsiders,
The Trojans,
the Bar-Kays,
Aaron Thompson,
Arab on Radar,
Motorama,
Boz Scaggs,
The Searchers,
Stetsasonic,
Zapp,
Tears for Fears,
The Sound,
John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
Metal Thangz,
Cal Tjader,
Deakin,
Lou Reed,
R.M.O.,
Buzzcocks,
Donald Byrd,
the Association,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bob Dylan,
D'Angelo,
The Neon Judgement,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bush Tetras,
Cymande,
Hardrive,
The Human League,
Mary Jane Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smiths,
Faust,
Von Mondo,
Maleditus Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Standells,
Suicide,
June Days,
The Evens,
the Normal,
Delta 5,
LL Cool J,
Guru Guru,
Infiniti,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.