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 Cuba and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Matthew Halsall to the jazz 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Little Man,
Maurizio,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Hardrive,
Angry Samoans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Slackers,
John Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
T. Rex,
Brass Construction,
Lucky Dragons,
Parry Music,
Joyce Sims,
X-102,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Circle Jerks,
Bang On A Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
Procol Harum,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zapp,
Tomorrow,
Main Source,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shoche,
Surgeon,
The Count Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
The J.B.'s,
Robert Hood,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-101,
New York Dolls,
Television Personalities,
the Association,
Thompson Twins,
DNA,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Yazoo,
Bluetip,
The Five Americans,
Donny Hathaway,
Soul II Soul,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barry Ungar,
World's Most,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sam Rivers,
Camberwell Now,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smoke,
Gabor Szabo,
The Electric Prunes,
Rufus Thomas,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.