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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Bananas to the grunge 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Drexciya,
Ten City,
Glenn Branca,
The Remains,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sonics,
Joyce Sims,
Bluetip,
The Dead C,
Letta Mbulu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Selecter,
Soulsonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
PIL,
T. Rex,
Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Reuben Wilson,
Derrick May,
The Star Department,
Johnny Clarke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amazonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dave Gahan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amon Düül,
The Black Dice,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare,
Circle Jerks,
Marine Girls,
Scientists,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
The Dirtbombs,
Stetsasonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Smog,
Alison Limerick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cheater Slicks,
AZ,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sound,
Alton Ellis,
John Foxx,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
New Age Steppers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.