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 Poland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Fall to the electroclash 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Al Stewart,
Marmalade,
Goldenarms,
kango's stein massive,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Move,
Archie Shepp,
Amon Düül II,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mantronix,
Soft Cell,
Matthew Bourne,
Can,
The Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Organ,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Germs,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Dual Sessions,
The Cramps,
The Last Poets,
The Durutti Column,
Public Enemy,
OOIOO,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers,
Swell Maps,
This Heat,
Jandek,
Clear Light,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ornette Coleman,
10cc,
B.T. Express,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Funkadelic,
the Association,
Skaos,
Crime,
Quando Quango,
Stereo Dub,
Visage,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stiv Bators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Urselle,
Quantec,
L. Decosne,
The Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Drexciya,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.