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 Israel and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Theoretical Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang On A Can,
Public Enemy,
Warsaw,
Supertramp,
The Tremeloes,
Connie Case,
Grauzone,
Soft Machine,
Half Japanese,
Moby Grape,
The Standells,
Joe Finger,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Procol Harum,
New Order,
Dawn Penn,
Tommy Roe,
Fatback Band,
Eric Copeland,
Magma,
David McCallum,
Idris Muhammad,
Fat Boys,
Technova,
The Golliwogs,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Fad Gadget,
Iggy Pop,
Bush Tetras,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Guru Guru,
Mars,
Soft Cell,
Godley & Creme,
The Black Dice,
Lyres,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Holt,
cv313,
Absolute Body Control,
Maurizio,
The Leaves,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faust,
Cluster,
John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter & Gordon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Halsall,
Agitation Free,
Soulsonic Force,
Ludus,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.