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 Tajikistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer 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 Robert Wyatt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Slick Rick,
Reagan Youth,
This Heat,
Ultra Naté,
Terrestrial Tones,
L. Decosne,
Rites of Spring,
Anakelly,
Ronnie Foster,
Outsiders,
Hashim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amazonics,
The Moody Blues,
Jacques Brel,
X-102,
Eden Ahbez,
DJ Style,
The Gories,
The Happenings,
the Normal,
Roxette,
Dennis Brown,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Trojans,
Subhumans,
Robert Hood,
The Stooges,
Arab on Radar,
Anthony Braxton,
Franke,
Audionom,
Sonic Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camberwell Now,
Aural Exciters,
The Seeds,
Skriet,
Chris Corsano,
Reuben Wilson,
Lakeside,
The Grass Roots,
Mr. Review,
Tim Buckley,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
The Gladiators,
Terry Callier,
Can,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed,
Fort Wilson Riot,
One Last Wish,
10cc,
Angry Samoans,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.