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 Iceland and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 U.S. Maple to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Sun City Girls,
Quantec,
Gichy Dan,
The Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hasil Adkins,
Joyce Sims,
the Association,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Yaz,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Slick Rick,
Alice Coltrane,
Lower 48,
Zero Boys,
The Busters,
Juan Atkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Bluetip,
Organ,
Fela Kuti,
Minnie Riperton,
The Zeros,
Alison Limerick,
Intrusion,
Vainqueur,
The Doobie Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zapp,
Wasted Youth,
Kenny Larkin,
Eddi Front,
OOIOO,
Matthew Halsall,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Selecter,
Cluster,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül II,
Altered Images,
The Fortunes,
Fluxion,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ohio Players,
Can,
Albert Ayler,
John Cale,
Sister Nancy,
These Immortal Souls,
Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
The Saints,
The Neon Judgement,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Mills,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.