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 Sweden and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Minnie Riperton 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anakelly,
Yusef Lateef,
Funky Four + One,
kango's stein massive,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wasted Youth,
Susan Cadogan,
Sixth Finger,
Steve Hackett,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pierre Henry,
CMW,
Altered Images,
Pet Shop Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Faraquet,
Sugar Minott,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sight & Sound,
Procol Harum,
Black Pus,
Bobby Sherman,
Fat Boys,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
Sound Behaviour,
The American Breed,
The Move,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Siglo XX,
Albert Ayler,
Soul II Soul,
10cc,
Audionom,
David Bowie,
Idris Muhammad,
Pulsallama,
Mr. Review,
The Monochrome Set,
Hoover,
Bush Tetras,
Harry Pussy,
Nik Kershaw,
Wings,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Buzzcocks,
Gichy Dan,
Boz Scaggs,
Underground Resistance,
Cymande,
Television Personalities,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.