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 Malta and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Iggy Pop to the punk 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Hood,
Minny Pops,
Angry Samoans,
Blancmange,
Sparks,
Ken Boothe,
Grey Daturas,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
B.T. Express,
Pole,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Skaos,
Hashim,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harry Pussy,
Television Personalities,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
AZ,
Monolake,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Rapeman,
Bob Dylan,
X-101,
Spoonie Gee,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joey Negro,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Newcleus,
Fela Kuti,
Dawn Penn,
Pagans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gerry Rafferty,
cv313,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mark Hollis,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Visage,
Thee Headcoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fuzztones,
The Misunderstood,
Skriet,
Drexciya,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.