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 Equatorial Guinea and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 OOIOO to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Absolute Body Control,
Joensuu 1685,
Funkadelic,
Chris Corsano,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Arab on Radar,
Harmonia,
The Searchers,
The Fugs,
Ossler,
Nico,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sonics,
Robert Görl,
Lalo Schifrin,
Main Source,
Black Sheep,
Fear,
Mandrill,
Shuggie Otis,
Cal Tjader,
Archie Shepp,
The Associates,
Soft Machine,
Boredoms,
Ultravox,
Cluster,
The Slits,
The Moleskins,
Derrick May,
R.M.O.,
Yazoo,
The Victims,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Near,
Roxette,
Heaven 17,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Siglo XX,
Fat Boys,
John Holt,
Aswad,
Tomorrow,
ABC,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Normal,
Public Enemy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
cv313,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.