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 Israel and from Lagos.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mad Mike to the crunk 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yellowson,
Gichy Dan,
Tommy Roe,
The Moody Blues,
Lightning Bolt,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stetsasonic,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Sonics,
Fela Kuti,
Ultimate Spinach,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Görl,
Shoche,
Half Japanese,
Liliput,
Magma,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eli Mardock,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gladiators,
Organ,
K-Klass,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
The Slits,
LL Cool J,
The Moleskins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
June of 44,
Malaria!,
Clear Light,
Cal Tjader,
Soft Cell,
Das Ding,
Harmonia,
Donny Hathaway,
Moebius,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deadbeat,
Tubeway Army,
Harpers Bizarre,
Matthew Halsall,
The Residents,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Man Parrish,
Skriet,
The Zeros,
Maleditus Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Al Stewart,
Glenn Branca,
Make Up,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.