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 Kiribati and from Halifax.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
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 808 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 Drexciya to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
the Association,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Selecter,
Pagans,
Alison Limerick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fuzztones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Duran Duran,
the Soft Cell,
Black Sheep,
The Smoke,
Lee Hazlewood,
10cc,
Sonny Sharrock,
Talk Talk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Osbourne,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
Marshall Jefferson,
T. Rex,
The Doors,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nico,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Cecil Taylor,
Angry Samoans,
Faraquet,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Christie,
Harry Pussy,
The Wake,
Scott Walker,
Gang Green,
Aloha Tigers,
Dawn Penn,
Roger Hodgson,
Altered Images,
Technova,
Anakelly,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Symarip,
Radio Birdman,
World's Most,
Eric Dolphy,
Eurythmics,
The Martian,
Swell Maps,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mummies,
Leonard Cohen,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cowsills,
The Red Krayola,
Urselle,
Nirvana,
The Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.