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 Australia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Standells to the punk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Brothers Johnson,
Wings,
Shoche,
The Saints,
Shuggie Otis,
Bauhaus,
Wally Richardson,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pop Group,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monolake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mojo Men,
Spandau Ballet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Velvet Underground,
Cameo,
Donald Byrd,
Jeff Lynne,
Hardrive,
These Immortal Souls,
Idris Muhammad,
Youth Brigade,
Agent Orange,
R.M.O.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angry Samoans,
Terry Callier,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magma,
Lightning Bolt,
Altered Images,
Wire,
New Order,
Swell Maps,
Das Ding,
Ten City,
Hot Snakes,
Sixth Finger,
Harmonia,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Agitation Free,
Scion,
Animal Collective,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
Roxy Music,
Ludus,
Duran Duran,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacques Brel,
Boredoms,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Parrish,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.