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 Niger and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits 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?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slackers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Los Fastidios,
Theoretical Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pagans,
New Age Steppers,
Intrusion,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crime,
Con Funk Shun,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Durutti Column,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Order,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crash Course in Science,
Talk Talk,
Lakeside,
Schoolly D,
Derrick May,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
Sparks,
Barbara Tucker,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
Black Pus,
Man Parrish,
June Days,
Bang On A Can,
Scion,
T.S.O.L.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jawbox,
Reuben Wilson,
Alton Ellis,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
Byron Stingily,
Althea and Donna,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-102,
F. McDonald,
Gang of Four,
The Selecter,
Nils Olav,
The Motions,
Sällskapet,
Susan Cadogan,
The Toasters,
Vladislav Delay,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.