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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rock 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
A Certain Ratio,
John Cale,
Nik Kershaw,
The Music Machine,
Marmalade,
The Invisible,
Roxette,
The Knickerbockers,
Panda Bear,
Nils Olav,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gong,
Skriet,
Thee Headcoats,
ABBA,
The Mummies,
Amon Düül II,
The Motions,
Cybotron,
R.M.O.,
Technova,
Television,
Warsaw,
Kas Product,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sparks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aural Exciters,
The Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
Ice-T,
Siglo XX,
The Mojo Men,
Unrelated Segments,
The Stooges,
Throbbing Gristle,
This Heat,
Patti Smith,
Visage,
The Skatalites,
Marvin Gaye,
B.T. Express,
The Misunderstood,
Fatback Band,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Harry Pussy,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slave,
Flash Fearless,
Theoretical Girls,
Agitation Free,
Ludus,
Marine Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
the Association,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.