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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Soft Machine to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
The Invisible,
The Modern Lovers,
Bauhaus,
Albert Ayler,
Graham Central Station,
DJ Style,
Spoonie Gee,
Mr. Review,
The Neon Judgement,
Arcadia,
Max Romeo,
E-Dancer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Womack,
The Tremeloes,
The Wake,
Delon & Dalcan,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang On A Can,
Parry Music,
Stetsasonic,
Lungfish,
Franke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Altered Images,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mark Hollis,
The Moleskins,
AZ,
Warsaw,
X-101,
The Fuzztones,
Nick Fraelich,
Darondo,
Subhumans,
The Barracudas,
Ituana,
The Pop Group,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Steve Hackett,
Howard Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barrington Levy,
Royal Trux,
Bill Near,
Infiniti,
the Association,
The Doors,
Kurtis Blow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick May,
Kevin Saunderson,
Clear Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Birthday Party,
The Walker Brothers,
Ludus,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.