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 Mauritania and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Harmonia to the rap 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Bauhaus,
Second Layer,
Main Source,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cowsills,
Ludus,
Japan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Liliput,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lucky Dragons,
Spandau Ballet,
Arcadia,
ABBA,
Make Up,
the Germs,
The Fortunes,
Fugazi,
Crash Course in Science,
Magma,
Sam Rivers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter & Gordon,
Freddie Wadling,
Fear,
In Retrospect,
Black Sheep,
Bill Wells,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Colin Newman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camouflage,
The Moleskins,
Interpol,
The Vogues,
Gregory Isaacs,
Agent Orange,
Alison Limerick,
Prince Buster,
Excepter,
Joe Smooth,
Ken Boothe,
Fat Boys,
PIL,
Sällskapet,
Black Bananas,
Boz Scaggs,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Hood,
Banda Bassotti,
Metal Thangz,
Anthony Braxton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
10cc,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.