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 St Lucia and from Spokane.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 This Heat to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dennis Brown,
The Smiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The New Christs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Qualms,
X-Ray Spex,
The Grass Roots,
Banda Bassotti,
The Walker Brothers,
The Martian,
Wings,
Aural Exciters,
Infiniti,
The Names,
Unwound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cowsills,
The Sound,
JFA,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Los Fastidios,
Neu!,
Flipper,
Model 500,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Music Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
In Retrospect,
David McCallum,
Pierre Henry,
the Bar-Kays,
Pole,
Tres Demented,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grauzone,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bad Manners,
Fela Kuti,
Ossler,
Kayak,
Bob Dylan,
Lower 48,
Black Bananas,
Bill Near,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fire Engines,
Excepter,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.