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 Albania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Divine Comedy to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Names,
Ituana,
Spoonie Gee,
Amon Düül II,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
The Modern Lovers,
Model 500,
Tom Boy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brass Construction,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Quando Quango,
Vainqueur,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minor Threat,
Excepter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nick Fraelich,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Electric Prunes,
Dual Sessions,
The Mojo Men,
Junior Murvin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
L. Decosne,
Jeff Mills,
Sixth Finger,
Das Ding,
Flash Fearless,
Sex Pistols,
Electric Prunes,
Yaz,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra,
Leonard Cohen,
One Last Wish,
Maurizio,
Black Sheep,
Angry Samoans,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
Black Moon,
Erasure,
Fatback Band,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Los Fastidios,
Patti Smith,
Sam Rivers,
The Saints,
John Foxx,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.