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 Guinea and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mojo Men,
The Pretty Things,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Maleditus Sound,
Sun Ra,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Roy Ayers,
Urselle,
The Monks,
John Cale,
Robert Hood,
Silicon Teens,
The Last Poets,
Half Japanese,
Stockholm Monsters,
These Immortal Souls,
Harmonia,
Bobby Womack,
Charles Mingus,
Crooked Eye,
Siglo XX,
Soulsonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
Adolescents,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smiths,
Eddi Front,
New Age Steppers,
Barrington Levy,
Newcleus,
Scientists,
Minny Pops,
Heaven 17,
The Blues Magoos,
Country Teasers,
The Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Stooges,
Roger Hodgson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Symarip,
Black Moon,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
Dark Day,
Matthew Halsall,
Tim Buckley,
The Electric Prunes,
Audionom,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masters at Work,
Kaleidoscope,
Harry Pussy,
X-102,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.