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 Namibia and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Donald Byrd,
David McCallum,
The Doors,
Qualms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Martian,
The Fall,
Ludus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yusef Lateef,
The Beau Brummels,
Fat Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Loose Ends,
Stereo Dub,
Silicon Teens,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dead C,
Newcleus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Infiniti,
ABBA,
Funkadelic,
The Seeds,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Howard Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Harmonia,
Pylon,
Surgeon,
Talk Talk,
Graham Central Station,
Sam Rivers,
Anakelly,
Spandau Ballet,
The Wake,
Charles Mingus,
The Searchers,
Stiv Bators,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Womack,
The Busters,
Clear Light,
Minny Pops,
Curtis Mayfield,
Youth Brigade,
Absolute Body Control,
Ituana,
The Birthday Party,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Leonard Cohen,
Make Up,
Barry Ungar,
Bob Dylan,
Joyce Sims,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.