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 Poland 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Pretty Things to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Gang Green,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Robert Hood,
Freddie Wadling,
Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Leonard Cohen,
Laurel Aitken,
Rapeman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Surgeon,
Hardrive,
Kenny Larkin,
Joy Division,
AZ,
Scion,
Lalann,
The Young Rascals,
Audionom,
Masters at Work,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
The Searchers,
Rotary Connection,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
Fat Boys,
The Leaves,
John Holt,
Minny Pops,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Durutti Column,
DNA,
Malaria!,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Duran Duran,
Desert Stars,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roger Hodgson,
Babytalk,
Wings,
Bill Near,
The Raincoats,
The Move,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Evens,
Godley & Creme,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cowsills,
Chris Corsano,
Parry Music,
Connie Case,
The Neon Judgement,
MC5,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.