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 Cambodia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Malaria! to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Archie Shepp,
Lucky Dragons,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marmalade,
La Düsseldorf,
Mars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Model 500,
The Star Department,
The Motions,
The Gun Club,
Harry Pussy,
The Pop Group,
Magma,
Fela Kuti,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Slackers,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
Monks,
Rapeman,
Spandau Ballet,
Thee Headcoats,
Cymande,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gabor Szabo,
Youth Brigade,
Henry Cow,
H. Thieme,
Yazoo,
Khruangbin,
Loose Ends,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Green,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Normal,
Ronan,
PIL,
Urselle,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Accadde A,
The Monochrome Set,
Theoretical Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cal Tjader,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
Dual Sessions,
Y Pants,
John Foxx,
Darondo,
The Walker Brothers,
Blancmange,
The Searchers,
Bobby Sherman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.