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 Liberia and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 New Age Steppers to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
the Soft Cell,
The Names,
Ice-T,
The Tremeloes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tubeway Army,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Last Poets,
Lyres,
Susan Cadogan,
The Slackers,
Alton Ellis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
This Heat,
Wally Richardson,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gap Band,
Excepter,
The Gories,
Hot Snakes,
Boogie Down Productions,
World's Most,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Nils Olav,
Model 500,
Jimmy McGriff,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Neon Judgement,
The American Breed,
Deadbeat,
Crooked Eye,
The Raincoats,
Popol Vuh,
Depeche Mode,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Altered Images,
Colin Newman,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Jacques Brel,
Grey Daturas,
Juan Atkins,
Can,
Audionom,
Kas Product,
Amon Düül,
Barbara Tucker,
Derrick Morgan,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Green,
Roxette,
Matthew Bourne,
Heaven 17,
Sonny Sharrock,
Half Japanese,
The Electric Prunes,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.