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 Gabon and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
A Certain Ratio,
Mad Mike,
The Neon Judgement,
The New Christs,
Sister Nancy,
Popol Vuh,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Finger,
Heaven 17,
Dennis Brown,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gun Club,
Eli Mardock,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
Albert Ayler,
The Moleskins,
The Searchers,
Lyres,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Clarke,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roy Ayers,
Eden Ahbez,
the Normal,
Sun Ra,
The Doors,
Gabor Szabo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rod Modell,
The Count Five,
Tears for Fears,
June Days,
Suicide,
Matthew Halsall,
Leonard Cohen,
Skaos,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Slits,
DJ Sneak,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
EPMD,
Zapp,
Wolf Eyes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neu!,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
Deepchord,
Laurel Aitken,
Derrick Morgan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
OOIOO,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suburban Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Names,
Tommy Roe,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.