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 Papua New Guinea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Negative Approach to the techno 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bush Tetras,
The Zeros,
Joey Negro,
Quantec,
Jerry's Kids,
Hasil Adkins,
Iggy Pop,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bang On A Can,
The Golliwogs,
The Moleskins,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aaron Thompson,
Arcadia,
Erasure,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sam Rivers,
Urselle,
Goldenarms,
The Red Krayola,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Walker Brothers,
T.S.O.L.,
Warren Ellis,
Nik Kershaw,
Scientists,
Kayak,
The Doors,
Intrusion,
Minny Pops,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siglo XX,
One Last Wish,
Joe Smooth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alice Coltrane,
The Wake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
Dark Day,
Infiniti,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Rundgren,
The Standells,
The Cramps,
Porter Ricks,
Supertramp,
Henry Cow,
Scrapy,
The Sonics,
The Trojans,
Joensuu 1685,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mo-Dettes,
The Raincoats,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.