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 Bahamas and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lucky Dragons to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Grey Daturas,
Don Cherry,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed,
The Grass Roots,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Flag,
Jeff Lynne,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Raincoats,
Albert Ayler,
Ronan,
Rakim,
Pet Shop Boys,
Talk Talk,
Bronski Beat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fatback Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Leonard Cohen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
Dual Sessions,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Holt,
The Tremeloes,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
The Names,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Byrd,
The Martian,
Iggy Pop,
Wire,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Faraquet,
Letta Mbulu,
The Moleskins,
Jawbox,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sam Rivers,
Technova,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Magazine,
Franke,
The Smoke,
Flash Fearless,
Theoretical Girls,
Skriet,
Soft Cell,
Rites of Spring,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
Icehouse,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.