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 Argentina and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 The Dead C to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mars,
Anakelly,
The Pretty Things,
Soft Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Max Romeo,
The Fortunes,
The Slits,
Faraquet,
Model 500,
Bill Wells,
Ohio Players,
Stereo Dub,
The Barracudas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Leaves,
Fad Gadget,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
10cc,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Lydon,
Ultravox,
Freddie Wadling,
Minutemen,
Robert Görl,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
T. Rex,
Sister Nancy,
Urselle,
Moss Icon,
Sarah Menescal,
Prince Buster,
Dawn Penn,
The Associates,
Sandy B,
Public Enemy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Desert Stars,
The New Christs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Doors,
Section 25,
Ten City,
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sight & Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
Roxette,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.