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 Dominican Republic and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grunge 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Groovy Waters,
Charles Mingus,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Music Machine,
The Leaves,
Mary Jane Girls,
KRS-One,
Y Pants,
The Divine Comedy,
Ossler,
Gichy Dan,
Moby Grape,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sound,
Animal Collective,
Nico,
Talk Talk,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Germs,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
London Community Gospel Choir,
F. McDonald,
Kayak,
The Mummies,
Magma,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lyres,
Eddi Front,
Scrapy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ohio Players,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tropical Tobacco,
OOIOO,
The Gap Band,
Monolake,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hot Snakes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-Ray Spex,
The Five Americans,
Half Japanese,
The Pretty Things,
Brick,
Joy Division,
Massinfluence,
La Düsseldorf,
The Modern Lovers,
Sparks,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.