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 Nauru and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Hasil Adkins to the jazz 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Cymande,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Style,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Junior Murvin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Bananas,
Rekid,
Duran Duran,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Cell,
Index,
Chris & Cosey,
Das Ding,
Jawbox,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
The Monks,
Agent Orange,
The J.B.'s,
Amazonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Quando Quango,
The Gap Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Alton Ellis,
Whodini,
Don Cherry,
Lower 48,
Masters at Work,
The Angels of Light,
Pole,
R.M.O.,
Mars,
The Evens,
Jandek,
Sister Nancy,
Eurythmics,
Mo-Dettes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Lungfish,
Maleditus Sound,
The Leaves,
The Smiths,
Theoretical Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Gong,
Traffic Nightmare,
Adolescents,
Excepter,
The Kinks,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.