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 Canada and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the grime 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
The Slits,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Lydon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Association,
New Order,
Howard Jones,
The Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
The Birthday Party,
Slick Rick,
F. McDonald,
Peter and Kerry,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Graham Central Station,
Hasil Adkins,
Faust,
Bang On A Can,
OOIOO,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Seeds,
the Sonics,
Yusef Lateef,
Tim Buckley,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rotary Connection,
Metal Thangz,
Bill Near,
Brick,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scientists,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiohead,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Hood,
B.T. Express,
The Barracudas,
Albert Ayler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yazoo,
Vainqueur,
The Raincoats,
Theoretical Girls,
Scan 7,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suicide,
Livin' Joy,
Joyce Sims,
John Holt,
Harmonia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Pop Group,
Amazonics,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.