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 Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Alarm Clocks to the funk 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fuzztones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rekid,
Bronski Beat,
Gabor Szabo,
Iggy Pop,
Monks,
The Associates,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jacob Miller,
Arthur Verocai,
Symarip,
In Retrospect,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Popol Vuh,
The Zeros,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
Mantronix,
Ludus,
Pagans,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bush Tetras,
Zapp,
The Fortunes,
The Grass Roots,
New Order,
Todd Terry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick Morgan,
Alphaville,
The Last Poets,
The Doors,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gichy Dan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Das Ding,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed,
The Raincoats,
Technova,
Bauhaus,
Cluster,
Wings,
Dennis Brown,
Royal Trux,
The Velvet Underground,
Tom Boy,
New Age Steppers,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.