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 Czech Republic 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Accadde A,
Warsaw,
Gichy Dan,
Wolf Eyes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soul II Soul,
Nico,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Associates,
The Detroit Cobras,
Anthony Braxton,
David Bowie,
The Invisible,
Ludus,
Blossom Toes,
Fear,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joensuu 1685,
FM Einheit,
MC5,
Deadbeat,
Blancmange,
Swell Maps,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Terry,
Wasted Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Görl,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
Zero Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Derrick May,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cowsills,
Groovy Waters,
The Raincoats,
Letta Mbulu,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Idris Muhammad,
Anakelly,
Henry Cow,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Pus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dead C,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June Days,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dead Boys,
The Fugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.