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 Mozambique and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blossom Toes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Christie,
Mad Mike,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Funkadelic,
Nirvana,
Gang Green,
Buzzcocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Janne Schatter,
Radiohead,
Blancmange,
The Names,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
Outsiders,
Lindisfarne,
Nico,
Aaron Thompson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rapeman,
Little Man,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lyres,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Silicon Teens,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wolf Eyes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Flag,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Byrd,
Section 25,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Funky Four + One,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joy Division,
Judy Mowatt,
Piero Umiliani,
Stetsasonic,
Agent Orange,
Barbara Tucker,
Mantronix,
Tres Demented,
a-ha,
Grey Daturas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lakeside,
The Angels of Light,
The Busters,
Pantaleimon,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.