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 Sudan and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Lou Reed 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 The Barracudas to the grime 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Dark Day,
This Heat,
Skaos,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
Parry Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Janne Schatter,
Pantaleimon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Outsiders,
Mark Hollis,
Section 25,
David McCallum,
Eurythmics,
The Dirtbombs,
Stiv Bators,
Grey Daturas,
Nirvana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
Underground Resistance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacques Brel,
Pere Ubu,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fugs,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mojo Men,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wasted Youth,
Dennis Brown,
The Pop Group,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Music Machine,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Standells,
ABBA,
Minutemen,
Camberwell Now,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans,
Pylon,
Chris Corsano,
The Blues Magoos,
Iggy Pop,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jimmy McGriff,
Das Ding,
Guru Guru,
June of 44,
Organ,
Fear,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.