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 Zimbabwe and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sight & Sound 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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
X-102,
Alphaville,
Scrapy,
The Fortunes,
Bill Wells,
Television,
Royal Trux,
Magazine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Wake,
Das Ding,
Guru Guru,
the Germs,
Ken Boothe,
Scientists,
Japan,
Index,
the Swans,
Ossler,
The Durutti Column,
Robert Wyatt,
Fat Boys,
Alton Ellis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sister Nancy,
Absolute Body Control,
Echospace,
Josef K,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Chris & Cosey,
John Cale,
Sound Behaviour,
Little Man,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Trumans Water,
The New Christs,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
The Evens,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Throbbing Gristle,
Matthew Halsall,
Thompson Twins,
Avey Tare,
Warren Ellis,
Sonny Sharrock,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Section 25,
Soulsonic Force,
John Coltrane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Flipper,
Sexual Harrassment,
Connie Case,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.