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 Liechtenstein and from Lyon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the punk 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Lungfish,
Todd Terry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Pus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wolf Eyes,
Mr. Review,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Human League,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Moody Blues,
AZ,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Monolake,
Masters at Work,
Brand Nubian,
Gregory Isaacs,
James White and The Blacks,
The Offenders,
Matthew Bourne,
MDC,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wings,
Soft Cell,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sällskapet,
Underground Resistance,
Marmalade,
Sister Nancy,
Tubeway Army,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mojo Men,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Machine,
Second Layer,
48th St. Collective,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radiohead,
Von Mondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Grass Roots,
Fad Gadget,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Funky Four + One,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Byrd,
Rekid,
B.T. Express,
Popol Vuh,
Banda Bassotti,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.