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 St Lucia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Wasted Youth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
New York Dolls,
Tim Buckley,
The Gun Club,
Fat Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Yusef Lateef,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick May,
Deakin,
X-101,
Brass Construction,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Real Kids,
Television,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nirvana,
Skriet,
Ice-T,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lyres,
Ossler,
Oblivians,
Roy Ayers,
The Fugs,
Saccharine Trust,
Moby Grape,
Hoover,
The Sound,
B.T. Express,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Danielle Patucci,
Nils Olav,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
The Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Los Fastidios,
The Mummies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry's Kids,
D'Angelo,
Average White Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ultimate Spinach,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cowsills,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minutemen,
Matthew Halsall,
Maurizio,
The Shadows of Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.