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 Bangladesh and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Associates to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
June of 44,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Gabor Szabo,
The Angels of Light,
Section 25,
Soul II Soul,
Japan,
Zapp,
Guru Guru,
Pantytec,
Mars,
The New Christs,
Robert Wyatt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bad Manners,
This Heat,
Susan Cadogan,
Glenn Branca,
The Human League,
Ten City,
Malaria!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rosa Yemen,
Dennis Brown,
Wally Richardson,
Roger Hodgson,
kango's stein massive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
T. Rex,
Donny Hathaway,
Don Cherry,
The Doors,
the Bar-Kays,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Boz Scaggs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Archie Shepp,
Fatback Band,
The Fugs,
X-101,
The Buckinghams,
Iggy Pop,
Lower 48,
Isaac Hayes,
Chris & Cosey,
Sugar Minott,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Teasers,
Tres Demented,
Blancmange,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minutemen,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.