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 Costa Rica and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 L. Decosne to the grunge 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
cv313,
Camouflage,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sparks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Offenders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cymande,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Bananas,
Livin' Joy,
Whodini,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
The Buckinghams,
Connie Case,
Anakelly,
The Five Americans,
Roxette,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cowsills,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harry Pussy,
Con Funk Shun,
a-ha,
Rekid,
Ultra Naté,
Zero Boys,
Nico,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABBA,
Unrelated Segments,
The Neon Judgement,
E-Dancer,
The Fugs,
The New Christs,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gories,
Intrusion,
Andrew Hill,
Sun Ra,
Lungfish,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
World's Most,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scott Walker,
A Certain Ratio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Suicide,
The Last Poets,
The Zeros,
Archie Shepp,
Rod Modell,
Main Source,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.