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 Thailand and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Albert Ayler to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Alarm Clocks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Swans,
Nils Olav,
Vladislav Delay,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Starr,
Sugar Minott,
Banda Bassotti,
Blossom Toes,
Qualms,
Trumans Water,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Mantronix,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Electric Prunes,
Donny Hathaway,
D'Angelo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pantaleimon,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sound,
Icehouse,
Organ,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q and Not U,
Godley & Creme,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Loose Ends,
Babytalk,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
Agent Orange,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barrington Levy,
Quadrant,
Thee Headcoats,
The Five Americans,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
Sällskapet,
One Last Wish,
X-Ray Spex,
Harmonia,
Rod Modell,
Lindisfarne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Shuggie Otis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eli Mardock,
Mandrill,
The Count Five,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Human League,
The Invisible,
Charles Mingus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Smog,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.