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 Luxembourg and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bobby Byrd to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Sound Behaviour,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gladiators,
Buzzcocks,
The Neon Judgement,
Harry Pussy,
Junior Murvin,
Franke,
La Düsseldorf,
Wings,
Henry Cow,
Eric Copeland,
Roxette,
Quadrant,
John Foxx,
Tim Buckley,
Dark Day,
Marine Girls,
The Litter,
Bill Wells,
Q and Not U,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Trojans,
Interpol,
Wolf Eyes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Fraelich,
Mo-Dettes,
Mars,
Hasil Adkins,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Swans,
the Swans,
Crime,
June of 44,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crooked Eye,
Mark Hollis,
Juan Atkins,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
James White and The Blacks,
Rosa Yemen,
Youth Brigade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Shuggie Otis,
Dawn Penn,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare,
Hashim,
Gong,
Section 25,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.