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 Latvia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 In Retrospect to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Mark Hollis,
Stereo Dub,
Cecil Taylor,
Section 25,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amazonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blackbyrds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tropical Tobacco,
KRS-One,
F. McDonald,
Hot Snakes,
Rekid,
Cymande,
Idris Muhammad,
DNA,
Maleditus Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Boredoms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Association,
Black Flag,
Vainqueur,
Joe Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Wasted Youth,
Goldenarms,
Mission of Burma,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Sherman,
H. Thieme,
B.T. Express,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Wyatt,
Sandy B,
Marmalade,
Roxy Music,
Siglo XX,
Rakim,
Michelle Simonal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suicide,
Juan Atkins,
Gong,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Drexciya,
Franke,
Clear Light,
Prince Buster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stiv Bators,
Babytalk,
Lakeside,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.