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 Azerbaijan and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hasil Adkins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agitation Free,
This Heat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scrapy,
Rotary Connection,
Organ,
John Lydon,
Cluster,
Frankie Knuckles,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Doobie Brothers,
Altered Images,
CMW,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacob Miller,
James White and The Blacks,
Duran Duran,
Camouflage,
Massinfluence,
The Victims,
Rapeman,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young,
48th St. Collective,
The Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Bad Manners,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rekid,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mad Mike,
Eurythmics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scott Walker,
The Slackers,
Brothers Johnson,
Porter Ricks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yellowson,
MC5,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agent Orange,
Nico,
These Immortal Souls,
Motorama,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Angels of Light,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Kinks,
Leonard Cohen,
Pole,
Jawbox,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.