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 Costa Rica and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 Marvin Gaye to the grunge 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
U.S. Maple,
H. Thieme,
Excepter,
Brand Nubian,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Rotary Connection,
Fear,
The Evens,
Dark Day,
Newcleus,
Spandau Ballet,
Supertramp,
The Gun Club,
JFA,
Sparks,
Mad Mike,
Gabor Szabo,
Desert Stars,
The Busters,
David Axelrod,
ABBA,
The Music Machine,
Tubeway Army,
The Selecter,
Can,
Y Pants,
The Misunderstood,
Country Teasers,
Con Funk Shun,
Marine Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tom Boy,
Chris & Cosey,
Joyce Sims,
John Coltrane,
Liliput,
Malaria!,
Minutemen,
Yusef Lateef,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brothers Johnson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tomorrow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Martian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Doors,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Black Dice,
Kurtis Blow,
Aswad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Godley & Creme,
The Leaves,
The Monks,
Henry Cow,
Negative Approach,
Hardrive,
Von Mondo,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.