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 Tonga and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Donald Byrd to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Neil Young,
Mark Hollis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Unwound,
Rosa Yemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Desert Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Echospace,
Fear,
Sam Rivers,
James White and The Blacks,
Mission of Burma,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mad Mike,
Tubeway Army,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lyres,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rekid,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Red Krayola,
The Pretty Things,
Mandrill,
The Zeros,
Cheater Slicks,
Barbara Tucker,
Chrome,
Magazine,
Pantaleimon,
Pussy Galore,
Soft Machine,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moleskins,
The Misunderstood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
Yaz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rod Modell,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
Rotary Connection,
The Tremeloes,
Depeche Mode,
Leonard Cohen,
The Shadows of Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.