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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blake Baxter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Basic Channel,
The Fall,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
The Gun Club,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Walker Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yellowson,
Wally Richardson,
Peter & Gordon,
Kas Product,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Germs,
Rod Modell,
Depeche Mode,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lungfish,
Oblivians,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
Suicide,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Judy Mowatt,
Minny Pops,
Neu!,
EPMD,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
Brand Nubian,
Jacob Miller,
Swell Maps,
Ossler,
Maleditus Sound,
Bush Tetras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Junior Murvin,
Q65,
Bootsy Collins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Divine Comedy,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Standells,
Newcleus,
The Star Department,
Lindisfarne,
Tim Buckley,
KRS-One,
Little Man,
Reagan Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
The Techniques,
Bang On A Can,
T. Rex,
Ultra Naté,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.