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 Honduras 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Graham Central Station to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minny Pops,
Arthur Verocai,
Alton Ellis,
Pulsallama,
The Names,
Slave,
PIL,
Terry Callier,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brick,
Infiniti,
Hashim,
Trumans Water,
Lyres,
Donny Hathaway,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Christie,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
kango's stein massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Main Source,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Modern Lovers,
Tim Buckley,
Harpers Bizarre,
World's Most,
John Holt,
Hoover,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Neu!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Malaria!,
The Human League,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
Marc Almond,
Amazonics,
Funkadelic,
Grey Daturas,
Vladislav Delay,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New York Dolls,
The Raincoats,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
UT,
Ultravox,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Talk Talk,
The Happenings,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.