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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Gastr Del Sol to the grunge 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Alphaville,
Crispian St. Peters,
Steve Hackett,
Isaac Hayes,
Joey Negro,
Icehouse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brick,
Howard Jones,
The Motions,
Livin' Joy,
Pussy Galore,
The Slits,
Organ,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thee Headcoats,
Freddie Wadling,
Aloha Tigers,
the Slits,
Saccharine Trust,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Sherman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric B and Rakim,
Arab on Radar,
Quantec,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Audionom,
Darondo,
Donald Byrd,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Red Krayola,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camberwell Now,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
Visage,
Sarah Menescal,
Dead Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fortunes,
Swell Maps,
Ultra Naté,
Al Stewart,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Supertramp,
Unwound,
Eden Ahbez,
Tim Buckley,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fall,
Iggy Pop,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brass Construction,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Victims,
Marc Almond,
Technova,
Deepchord,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.