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 Senegal and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Beau Brummels to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantytec,
Agitation Free,
Electric Prunes,
The Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tommy Roe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fugs,
Monks,
Das Ding,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas,
Joe Finger,
The Toasters,
Lindisfarne,
The Sonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Mr. Review,
Goldenarms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Pretty Things,
Mark Hollis,
Mo-Dettes,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Funkadelic,
John Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ituana,
Brothers Johnson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Pus,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Green,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Technova,
Yaz,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Wyatt,
Bluetip,
Bronski Beat,
The Move,
Rakim,
Chrome,
Average White Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Siglo XX,
Cluster,
The Kinks,
Scientists,
Brass Construction,
Suburban Knight,
Excepter,
Silicon Teens,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.