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 Latvia and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rock 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Talk Talk,
Delon & Dalcan,
June of 44,
The Fall,
Wolf Eyes,
Y Pants,
Alison Limerick,
The Smiths,
James Chance & The Contortions,
AZ,
Qualms,
Gerry Rafferty,
Second Layer,
Josef K,
Warsaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Minny Pops,
ABBA,
Hot Snakes,
Cymande,
Hardrive,
Sister Nancy,
David Bowie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siglo XX,
Ultravox,
Pharoah Sanders,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Quando Quango,
Royal Trux,
Kevin Saunderson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Davy DMX,
Malaria!,
Von Mondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun Ra,
James White and The Blacks,
Clear Light,
Gang Green,
Terrestrial Tones,
Slick Rick,
Jerry's Kids,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
The Martian,
Andrew Hill,
Cybotron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
Bill Wells,
These Immortal Souls,
David McCallum,
Niagra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hasil Adkins,
Anthony Braxton,
The Victims,
Aswad,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.