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 Azerbaijan and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the techno 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
The Real Kids,
The Birthday Party,
Moebius,
Index,
Niagra,
Rites of Spring,
cv313,
A Certain Ratio,
Patti Smith,
Agitation Free,
Absolute Body Control,
Gabor Szabo,
Iggy Pop,
The Durutti Column,
Moby Grape,
Darondo,
Faraquet,
Johnny Clarke,
Sarah Menescal,
Goldenarms,
Marc Almond,
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ken Boothe,
Lucky Dragons,
Sixth Finger,
Prince Buster,
the Normal,
Liliput,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Axelrod,
The Invisible,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scrapy,
Grauzone,
The Young Rascals,
Steve Hackett,
KRS-One,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
World's Most,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Warsaw,
Soft Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cowsills,
Wings,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ten City,
Joe Finger,
Suburban Knight,
T.S.O.L.,
Severed Heads,
MDC,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.