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 Morocco and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rites of Spring,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eve St. Jones,
The Buckinghams,
Lyres,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Urselle,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
Khruangbin,
Banda Bassotti,
T.S.O.L.,
Brick,
JFA,
Dead Boys,
Tim Buckley,
The Kinks,
Loose Ends,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Motions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gun Club,
Suburban Knight,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blackbyrds,
Quando Quango,
Bob Dylan,
Funkadelic,
The Invisible,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
Visage,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Golliwogs,
Mark Hollis,
Con Funk Shun,
Y Pants,
the Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Zeros,
Albert Ayler,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
The Count Five,
Max Romeo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Arab on Radar,
The Fortunes,
Essential Logic,
Leonard Cohen,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harmonia,
Stereo Dub,
Shuggie Otis,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.