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 Greece and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brand Nubian to the rap 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Tommy Roe,
Moebius,
Jawbox,
Bobby Sherman,
Joe Smooth,
The Grass Roots,
Lower 48,
Pole,
The Slackers,
The Music Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mars,
Interpol,
The Trojans,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Womack,
Danielle Patucci,
Bronski Beat,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
The Zeros,
Drive Like Jehu,
Darondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Saints,
X-101,
Beasts of Bourbon,
LL Cool J,
Eric B and Rakim,
JFA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Laurel Aitken,
Lightning Bolt,
Patti Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
David Bowie,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Starr,
Ultra Naté,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Technova,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Essential Logic,
David Axelrod,
Kayak,
Amon Düül,
Pylon,
Clear Light,
Scrapy,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Clarke,
The Residents,
Trumans Water,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.