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 Ireland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Holger Czukay 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 Tim Buckley to the dance 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
Cybotron,
Rapeman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fugs,
Archie Shepp,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Echospace,
Thee Headcoats,
Ken Boothe,
Jawbox,
Camouflage,
Marvin Gaye,
James White and The Blacks,
The Pop Group,
Maurizio,
Altered Images,
Inner City,
Mantronix,
The Beau Brummels,
JFA,
Joe Finger,
Michelle Simonal,
Ossler,
EPMD,
Camberwell Now,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cluster,
Robert Görl,
Yusef Lateef,
Roger Hodgson,
8 Eyed Spy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soft Machine,
Dennis Brown,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Bananas,
Bad Manners,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric Copeland,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visage,
Brass Construction,
Country Teasers,
The Electric Prunes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Trumans Water,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Matthew Bourne,
Faust,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rufus Thomas,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.