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 Samoa and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the grime 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Minnie Riperton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Golliwogs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cluster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül,
Soul Sonic Force,
Procol Harum,
The Skatalites,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ludus,
Q and Not U,
Stockholm Monsters,
La Düsseldorf,
Aswad,
Black Moon,
Sister Nancy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hashim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Inner City,
Steve Hackett,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rekid,
UT,
Barbara Tucker,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Tremeloes,
John Lydon,
Monolake,
Pussy Galore,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ossler,
Moby Grape,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mummies,
Boz Scaggs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Talk Talk,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
EPMD,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sex Pistols,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
Cymande,
Magma,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.