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 Uruguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer 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 Sandy B 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bill Near,
Rhythm & Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Beau Brummels,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Make Up,
Moebius,
Faraquet,
Gang Green,
The Gladiators,
Intrusion,
a-ha,
Delta 5,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Ken Boothe,
48th St. Collective,
Main Source,
Au Pairs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Joensuu 1685,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Bananas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Flash Fearless,
The Blues Magoos,
One Last Wish,
Lakeside,
The Remains,
The Dirtbombs,
Mars,
Ultravox,
Inner City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Davy DMX,
Royal Trux,
The Dave Clark Five,
MDC,
Section 25,
Magazine,
Qualms,
Brick,
Wally Richardson,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Almond,
Ultra Naté,
the Germs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Barracudas,
Easy Going,
The Durutti Column,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.