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 South Africa and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar 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 Carl Craig to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marine Girls,
the Sonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Young Rascals,
The Toasters,
Silicon Teens,
Simply Red,
The J.B.'s,
Khruangbin,
Heaven 17,
Depeche Mode,
Wally Richardson,
The Angels of Light,
DJ Sneak,
Monks,
Motorama,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Green,
Don Cherry,
Deakin,
Camouflage,
Tropical Tobacco,
MDC,
Letta Mbulu,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Siglo XX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Magazine,
The Leaves,
The Gun Club,
The Index,
John Coltrane,
Interpol,
Oneida,
FM Einheit,
Thee Headcoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick Morgan,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Trojans,
Sonic Youth,
Flipper,
Marcia Griffiths,
Average White Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Technova,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
The Invisible,
Intrusion,
Das Ding,
Audionom,
Radiohead,
Stereo Dub,
Soul Sonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Blackbyrds,
Roxette,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.