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 Malawi and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fatback Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Simply Red,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mark Hollis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Josef K,
John Foxx,
Cybotron,
Nik Kershaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Mills,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Rufus Thomas,
Alison Limerick,
Dead Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Erasure,
JFA,
Sugar Minott,
Stiv Bators,
Masters at Work,
Altered Images,
Qualms,
Harpers Bizarre,
Unwound,
Basic Channel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Los Fastidios,
The Monks,
Whodini,
F. McDonald,
Scientists,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nirvana,
Desert Stars,
Carl Craig,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lucky Dragons,
Barrington Levy,
The Count Five,
Angry Samoans,
Bob Dylan,
Q65,
Crash Course in Science,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Almond,
The J.B.'s,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skaos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
Bronski Beat,
Hot Snakes,
Half Japanese,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.