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 the UAE and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-101 to the techno 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Toni Rubio,
Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rosa Yemen,
Bad Manners,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fall,
John Coltrane,
Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Vainqueur,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun City Girls,
Motorama,
Juan Atkins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wally Richardson,
Eric B and Rakim,
L. Decosne,
The Toasters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Iggy Pop,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Country Teasers,
Main Source,
Unwound,
Sight & Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Albert Ayler,
Make Up,
Black Flag,
Graham Central Station,
Roxy Music,
Harry Pussy,
The Human League,
The Misunderstood,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
Chris Corsano,
Lindisfarne,
Blancmange,
AZ,
Patti Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Quando Quango,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Hutcherson,
JFA,
Chrome,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Livin' Joy,
Janne Schatter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fela Kuti,
The Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.