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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 The Music Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Selecter,
Infiniti,
Rotary Connection,
Lakeside,
Sight & Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zero Boys,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül,
Unwound,
Chris Corsano,
Aloha Tigers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joensuu 1685,
The Wake,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Swans,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABC,
LL Cool J,
the Bar-Kays,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
Rufus Thomas,
Chrome,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yazoo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Alphaville,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Negative Approach,
Ronan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Durutti Column,
Minny Pops,
Anthony Braxton,
Japan,
The Gladiators,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ornette Coleman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minutemen,
JFA,
Nirvana,
Interpol,
Shuggie Otis,
Sällskapet,
Con Funk Shun,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.