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 Sweden and from Mumbai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Divine Comedy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
the Sonics,
Arab on Radar,
Boz Scaggs,
Surgeon,
the Swans,
The Toasters,
The Young Rascals,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Associates,
Quando Quango,
The Star Department,
Maurizio,
Gang Green,
Make Up,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mummies,
Lindisfarne,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Monks,
Freddie Wadling,
Boogie Down Productions,
X-102,
The Grass Roots,
Sarah Menescal,
Erasure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Depeche Mode,
Bill Wells,
Intrusion,
Black Pus,
Adolescents,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Pagans,
The Black Dice,
World's Most,
Gichy Dan,
Chris & Cosey,
Pylon,
Robert Wyatt,
Cal Tjader,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Archie Shepp,
Eve St. Jones,
Ralphi Rosario,
The United States of America,
The Happenings,
Peter & Gordon,
Malaria!,
Ornette Coleman,
K-Klass,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Misunderstood,
Yusef Lateef,
Pole,
New Age Steppers,
Drexciya,
Trumans Water,
The Blues Magoos,
Skaos,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.