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 Armenia and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 The New Christs to the techno 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Flag,
The Cramps,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mantronix,
Hoover,
June Days,
The Mojo Men,
Mission of Burma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra,
Outsiders,
Intrusion,
Severed Heads,
Heaven 17,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Lydon,
Sparks,
Mandrill,
The Names,
The Evens,
Blossom Toes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alison Limerick,
Lucky Dragons,
Nas,
Cheater Slicks,
Suburban Knight,
The Toasters,
The Move,
Swans,
The Gap Band,
the Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Siglo XX,
Yusef Lateef,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Graham Central Station,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Gang Dance,
James White and The Blacks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
Lindisfarne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Model 500,
The Gladiators,
The Victims,
Boredoms,
Simply Red,
Drexciya,
Bill Near,
Althea and Donna,
JFA,
Nik Kershaw,
Soft Machine,
E-Dancer,
David McCallum,
Maleditus Sound,
Inner City,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.