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 Korea South and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sight & Sound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Livin' Joy,
Pulsallama,
Gang of Four,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bill Near,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Howard Jones,
Procol Harum,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Shadows of Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
The Happenings,
Steve Hackett,
Boogie Down Productions,
Section 25,
The Index,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Smiths,
The Count Five,
Sight & Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Jandek,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Neon Judgement,
Blossom Toes,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry's Kids,
Stereo Dub,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Niagra,
Eric Copeland,
Henry Cow,
Lyres,
Alphaville,
DNA,
Gong,
Television,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Deadbeat,
New York Dolls,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soulsonic Force,
Model 500,
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
The Residents,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hashim,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.