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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Curtis Mayfield to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ituana,
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
Peter and Kerry,
Dead Boys,
Audionom,
Eric Copeland,
Y Pants,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soft Cell,
The Walker Brothers,
ABBA,
Rosa Yemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
The Young Rascals,
The Vogues,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Soft Cell,
John Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
The Grass Roots,
Newcleus,
Interpol,
the Human League,
Reagan Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Stooges,
FM Einheit,
Delta 5,
Talk Talk,
UT,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
Fear,
the Normal,
Fugazi,
Livin' Joy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sparks,
Slave,
Kurtis Blow,
Bauhaus,
Agent Orange,
Flash Fearless,
Adolescents,
Nik Kershaw,
Pole,
Brick,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
L. Decosne,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.