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 Egypt and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 marimba 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 Ice-T to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
kango's stein massive,
Magma,
Public Enemy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eddi Front,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
Groovy Waters,
Dark Day,
Sonny Sharrock,
Boredoms,
Fad Gadget,
The Searchers,
New Age Steppers,
Depeche Mode,
Kayak,
Glenn Branca,
Alton Ellis,
The Happenings,
Scan 7,
CMW,
Clear Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiohead,
Procol Harum,
Kenny Larkin,
Fluxion,
DJ Style,
Reuben Wilson,
Alice Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Faraquet,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Vogues,
Aswad,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill,
Erykah Badu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeff Mills,
Silicon Teens,
The Knickerbockers,
Technova,
Cybotron,
Hardrive,
The Associates,
The Count Five,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cure,
Dual Sessions,
Sister Nancy,
Make Up,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eve St. Jones,
Nico,
Mandrill,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.