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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Banda Bassotti to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Faraquet,
Kerri Chandler,
Amon Düül,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Excepter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mark Hollis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heaven 17,
EPMD,
Rakim,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sugar Minott,
8 Eyed Spy,
Buzzcocks,
Youth Brigade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül II,
Tropical Tobacco,
David McCallum,
Neu!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Man Eating Sloth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Massinfluence,
Clear Light,
Charles Mingus,
Easy Going,
LL Cool J,
The Happenings,
Yazoo,
Erykah Badu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grauzone,
Peter & Gordon,
Gong,
The Mummies,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
Ludus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
James White and The Blacks,
Y Pants,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ornette Coleman,
Ossler,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.