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 Somalia and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Techniques to the grime 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
The American Breed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stiv Bators,
Angry Samoans,
Easy Going,
Godley & Creme,
Parry Music,
Camberwell Now,
Brick,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Byrd,
Animal Collective,
Von Mondo,
cv313,
Avey Tare,
X-Ray Spex,
Scott Walker,
Inner City,
X-102,
Lalann,
Yaz,
Pylon,
The Star Department,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
Tres Demented,
The Index,
Bronski Beat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roy Ayers,
Jeff Lynne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eli Mardock,
Stetsasonic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scientists,
Black Bananas,
Fear,
The Raincoats,
Amon Düül II,
Con Funk Shun,
Steve Hackett,
The Moody Blues,
Trumans Water,
The Music Machine,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
LL Cool J,
The Cramps,
Moss Icon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.