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 Peru and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the disco 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Skarface,
Fat Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Cymande,
Lungfish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Görl,
The Buckinghams,
Spandau Ballet,
Graham Central Station,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Prunes,
Bootsy Collins,
John Coltrane,
Pagans,
Davy DMX,
Banda Bassotti,
Talk Talk,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
The Monochrome Set,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suburban Knight,
Agitation Free,
Drexciya,
Matthew Bourne,
cv313,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Freddie Wadling,
Boz Scaggs,
The Remains,
Erykah Badu,
Japan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aural Exciters,
Television,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Cal Tjader,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Sonic Youth,
The Tremeloes,
Patti Smith,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Judy Mowatt,
Junior Murvin,
Goldenarms,
Darondo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.