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 Seychelles and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
The Searchers,
Popol Vuh,
Talk Talk,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pere Ubu,
AZ,
Pulsallama,
Gang Green,
The Martian,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ornette Coleman,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
Angry Samoans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Junior Murvin,
Skriet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The American Breed,
Bluetip,
Minny Pops,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sight & Sound,
Television,
Althea and Donna,
The Divine Comedy,
Thee Headcoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Moebius,
Negative Approach,
Henry Cow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mo-Dettes,
Fat Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Loose Ends,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Rufus Thomas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Todd Terry,
Matthew Bourne,
Average White Band,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Byrd,
Albert Ayler,
Audionom,
FM Einheit,
Kas Product,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
The Pretty Things,
Byron Stingily,
Warren Ellis,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.