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 Ukraine and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rock 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Kurtis Blow,
Howard Jones,
Don Cherry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erykah Badu,
John Holt,
The Remains,
Qualms,
Pere Ubu,
Au Pairs,
H. Thieme,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Red Krayola,
Zapp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lightning Bolt,
John Foxx,
The Smiths,
The Golliwogs,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick May,
the Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Christie,
X-Ray Spex,
Nirvana,
The Trojans,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
The Sonics,
Leonard Cohen,
Depeche Mode,
Ossler,
The Cowsills,
Absolute Body Control,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Surgeon,
Fela Kuti,
The Standells,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Graham Central Station,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kayak,
Tubeway Army,
Rakim,
Avey Tare,
The Walker Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
The Invisible,
Second Layer,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Sonics,
Delta 5,
Yellowson,
Minny Pops,
Chrome,
Khruangbin,
Moby Grape,
Section 25,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.