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 Senegal 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jeru the Damaja to the funk 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Black Bananas,
Bronski Beat,
The New Christs,
Khruangbin,
Country Teasers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Easy Going,
Flipper,
June Days,
The Martian,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fear,
Pylon,
The Skatalites,
Tom Boy,
Juan Atkins,
DNA,
Cal Tjader,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radiohead,
Soul Sonic Force,
Technova,
Thee Headcoats,
Popol Vuh,
the Sonics,
The Dirtbombs,
Bob Dylan,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler,
Zapp,
Brick,
New Age Steppers,
Deadbeat,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Order,
Mary Jane Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Almond,
Mission of Burma,
One Last Wish,
Ultravox,
The Cramps,
The Music Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ornette Coleman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Unwound,
Archie Shepp,
Slick Rick,
48th St. Collective,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sonics,
Rekid,
Rapeman,
Jeff Lynne,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.