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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes 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 Television Personalities to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
Moebius,
Derrick May,
Pere Ubu,
The Sound,
Josef K,
Altered Images,
The Leaves,
Letta Mbulu,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ossler,
Freddie Wadling,
Gerry Rafferty,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marine Girls,
Bill Near,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Can,
The Sonics,
The Gun Club,
The Fugs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Von Mondo,
Vainqueur,
The Fuzztones,
Dawn Penn,
Sun City Girls,
The New Christs,
Funkadelic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Los Fastidios,
Thompson Twins,
Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Stetsasonic,
Pantaleimon,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
Shuggie Otis,
Hoover,
Radiohead,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slave,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Golliwogs,
Gabor Szabo,
Soulsonic Force,
The Knickerbockers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pagans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blake Baxter,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.