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 Mozambique and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Nik Kershaw to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
John Cale,
Underground Resistance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Royal Trux,
PIL,
H. Thieme,
Moebius,
Saccharine Trust,
Deadbeat,
Country Teasers,
KRS-One,
Crooked Eye,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bluetip,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dead Boys,
Byron Stingily,
Popol Vuh,
Radio Birdman,
The Durutti Column,
Dark Day,
Bill Wells,
The Tremeloes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Lynne,
The Move,
T. Rex,
The Smiths,
Livin' Joy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rufus Thomas,
Dual Sessions,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Graham Central Station,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Matthew Bourne,
Mark Hollis,
Bang On A Can,
Iggy Pop,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Funky Four + One,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lower 48,
Alton Ellis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donald Byrd,
Funkadelic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-Ray Spex,
The Black Dice,
Icehouse,
Todd Terry,
Ossler,
Public Enemy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Angry Samoans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Order,
Bad Manners,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.