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 Liberia 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Underground Resistance to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Isaac Hayes,
Skarface,
the Bar-Kays,
Crooked Eye,
Y Pants,
Rufus Thomas,
Hasil Adkins,
Severed Heads,
Soft Machine,
Amazonics,
The Moleskins,
Lucky Dragons,
Underground Resistance,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terry Callier,
Rakim,
Johnny Clarke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
Dual Sessions,
Inner City,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
Liliput,
Moby Grape,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Althea and Donna,
Letta Mbulu,
Camouflage,
Cluster,
Ohio Players,
Crash Course in Science,
Main Source,
David Bowie,
Cymande,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Minutemen,
Make Up,
Jerry's Kids,
Alison Limerick,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blake Baxter,
Boredoms,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Lou Christie,
Tubeway Army,
Gerry Rafferty,
Panda Bear,
Joe Smooth,
Das Ding,
The Red Krayola,
Pere Ubu,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.