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 Uruguay and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Robert Görl to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Lower 48,
Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
David Bowie,
Joyce Sims,
The Evens,
The Velvet Underground,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
B.T. Express,
Graham Central Station,
48th St. Collective,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mummies,
Brick,
Chrome,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slits,
Soft Cell,
The Neon Judgement,
Crash Course in Science,
Judy Mowatt,
Don Cherry,
Nirvana,
Banda Bassotti,
Eurythmics,
Robert Hood,
OOIOO,
MDC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smiths,
Intrusion,
Ice-T,
Ronan,
Boredoms,
Hasil Adkins,
Archie Shepp,
Joe Smooth,
the Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Section 25,
The Shadows of Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare,
U.S. Maple,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Shoche,
The Durutti Column,
Frankie Knuckles,
Slick Rick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minny Pops,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Bananas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Five Americans,
EPMD,
In Retrospect,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.