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 Thailand and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Colin Newman to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Crooked Eye,
The Remains,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxette,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mo-Dettes,
The Seeds,
the Normal,
Nils Olav,
Reuben Wilson,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deadbeat,
Dead Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thompson Twins,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeff Lynne,
The Standells,
Index,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Audionom,
Gabor Szabo,
Goldenarms,
Franke,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Wells,
Ultra Naté,
Amon Düül II,
The Barracudas,
Drive Like Jehu,
Model 500,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Womack,
The Selecter,
Morten Harket,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angry Samoans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brand Nubian,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Misunderstood,
Fear,
Junior Murvin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ponytail,
Tres Demented,
The Pretty Things,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pere Ubu,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.