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 Norway and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Shadows of Knight to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Ponytail,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fear,
The Star Department,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bang On A Can,
The Cramps,
Slave,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brass Construction,
Deakin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deadbeat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sight & Sound,
Yazoo,
Cameo,
Camberwell Now,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kas Product,
Harmonia,
Trumans Water,
The Modern Lovers,
Ludus,
Traffic Nightmare,
June Days,
Delta 5,
Faraquet,
Bobby Womack,
Gabor Szabo,
The Flesh Eaters,
LL Cool J,
The Searchers,
Joe Finger,
Erykah Badu,
Mars,
the Human League,
Swell Maps,
Bizarre Inc.,
Letta Mbulu,
Wings,
Popol Vuh,
The Residents,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wasted Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reagan Youth,
Connie Case,
Gichy Dan,
Aural Exciters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sandy B,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.