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 Niger and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet 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 Camouflage to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
Iggy Pop,
Kurtis Blow,
F. McDonald,
Aswad,
Josef K,
Wasted Youth,
Royal Trux,
John Foxx,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
Zero Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Freddie Wadling,
Harmonia,
Dark Day,
Newcleus,
Isaac Hayes,
Arthur Verocai,
Rufus Thomas,
Fat Boys,
Duran Duran,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Heaven 17,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
Fatback Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Grass Roots,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minutemen,
The Cure,
Ken Boothe,
Bad Manners,
Liliput,
Loose Ends,
Y Pants,
Chrome,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Evens,
Agent Orange,
The Fuzztones,
China Crisis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grey Daturas,
Lindisfarne,
Rosa Yemen,
Porter Ricks,
The Tremeloes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Letta Mbulu,
The Move,
Carl Craig,
Theoretical Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry's Kids,
Lakeside,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.