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 United Kingdom and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Shoche to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Bourne,
Oblivians,
Bad Manners,
Surgeon,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
The Kinks,
The Moody Blues,
Radiohead,
The Fall,
These Immortal Souls,
Tears for Fears,
Young Marble Giants,
Yazoo,
The Velvet Underground,
The Shadows of Knight,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris Corsano,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
China Crisis,
Rekid,
Ossler,
Joe Smooth,
Josef K,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nation of Ulysses,
Half Japanese,
Minor Threat,
Neu!,
Absolute Body Control,
Derrick May,
Yusef Lateef,
Kerrie Biddell,
One Last Wish,
Dawn Penn,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marc Almond,
The Music Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wasted Youth,
John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Bang On A Can,
Model 500,
the Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lyres,
The Stooges,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Erykah Badu,
New Order,
Rapeman,
Robert Görl,
Dave Gahan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.