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 Liechtenstein and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Yellowson,
The Residents,
Godley & Creme,
Albert Ayler,
Ten City,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Metal Thangz,
the Slits,
Max Romeo,
the Bar-Kays,
Depeche Mode,
Zero Boys,
Sonic Youth,
Japan,
The Invisible,
Cymande,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
Mandrill,
Porter Ricks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Blues Magoos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Janne Schatter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Warsaw,
Drexciya,
Liliput,
Babytalk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
the Swans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Five Americans,
Clear Light,
The Evens,
Animal Collective,
The Neon Judgement,
China Crisis,
Pierre Henry,
Joey Negro,
Quando Quango,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Pus,
World's Most,
Ken Boothe,
FM Einheit,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yazoo,
Reuben Wilson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Isaac Hayes,
The Barracudas,
Ultravox,
Robert Görl,
Lebanon Hanover,
Basic Channel,
Sister Nancy,
The Dead C,
Bad Manners,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.