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 Ecuador and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Yaz,
Gang of Four,
Todd Rundgren,
Young Marble Giants,
Mars,
Minnie Riperton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Michelle Simonal,
Second Layer,
The Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sex Pistols,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aswad,
D'Angelo,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Görl,
The Offenders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Accadde A,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Roger Hodgson,
Moby Grape,
Junior Murvin,
Black Bananas,
The Seeds,
The Smoke,
The Young Rascals,
Brick,
Lou Reed,
Rhythm & Sound,
Unwound,
Technova,
Yellowson,
UT,
Niagra,
Lightning Bolt,
Chrome,
Sight & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Nico,
Barclay James Harvest,
Siglo XX,
Soft Machine,
The Saints,
Y Pants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Susan Cadogan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dead Boys,
Josef K,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.