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 Estonia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 J.B.'s to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
The Gun Club,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Robert Wyatt,
Scion,
Severed Heads,
The Modern Lovers,
Make Up,
Roy Ayers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siglo XX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oneida,
Swell Maps,
Outsiders,
The Grass Roots,
Babytalk,
The Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Cecil Taylor,
Procol Harum,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
kango's stein massive,
Michelle Simonal,
Scan 7,
Max Romeo,
Amon Düül,
48th St. Collective,
Lindisfarne,
E-Dancer,
Soft Machine,
Parry Music,
Suicide,
Rekid,
Yazoo,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
Fear,
The Golliwogs,
The Smoke,
Shoche,
R.M.O.,
Black Sheep,
Toni Rubio,
Kayak,
The Sound,
Skarface,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
Mandrill,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mary Jane Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.