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 Brunei 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Yusef Lateef to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Franke,
Eve St. Jones,
the Germs,
B.T. Express,
X-Ray Spex,
Main Source,
Sonic Youth,
Sällskapet,
Sex Pistols,
June Days,
Technova,
JFA,
Magma,
Rosa Yemen,
R.M.O.,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
PIL,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Animal Collective,
Agitation Free,
Hot Snakes,
Dead Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quantec,
The Durutti Column,
Little Man,
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gong,
The Moody Blues,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brass Construction,
Jandek,
Niagra,
The Fortunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Joe Smooth,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Mills,
The Kinks,
Camouflage,
The Knickerbockers,
Junior Murvin,
Yusef Lateef,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Donny Hathaway,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Sheep,
The Toasters,
E-Dancer,
The United States of America,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Heaven 17,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.