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 Cape Verde and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Black Sheep to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Maurizio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yaz,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Josef K,
Colin Newman,
The Kinks,
Mark Hollis,
The Gun Club,
Chris Corsano,
The Modern Lovers,
Crime,
The Index,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Techniques,
Sandy B,
Brick,
The Mummies,
Sonic Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
Erykah Badu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Busters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gap Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Metal Thangz,
Black Bananas,
JFA,
Kaleidoscope,
The Seeds,
Schoolly D,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flipper,
Livin' Joy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roy Ayers,
Japan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soul II Soul,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rapeman,
Popol Vuh,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Prunes,
Quadrant,
John Cale,
Subhumans,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.