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 Bhutan and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 China Crisis to the crunk 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Black Sheep,
Marmalade,
Half Japanese,
Dead Boys,
L. Decosne,
New York Dolls,
Soul II Soul,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dennis Brown,
Oneida,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arthur Verocai,
Susan Cadogan,
Unwound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moby Grape,
Talk Talk,
Al Stewart,
Eric Copeland,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alphaville,
Lungfish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Joyce Sims,
Cameo,
Aural Exciters,
The Slackers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lyres,
Peter and Kerry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Monks,
Marvin Gaye,
Laurel Aitken,
Visage,
Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Flag,
Hoover,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Angels of Light,
Silicon Teens,
Reagan Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Young Marble Giants,
The Toasters,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Litter,
Soft Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Kerri Chandler,
Liliput,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Blake Baxter,
Gang Starr,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.