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 Turkey and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 June Days to the punk 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxette,
Lower 48,
Arcadia,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Byrd,
Urselle,
Camberwell Now,
Panda Bear,
KRS-One,
Bush Tetras,
Flamin' Groovies,
Khruangbin,
Eric Copeland,
Reagan Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Youth Brigade,
The Golliwogs,
Harry Pussy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ohio Players,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skarface,
Pere Ubu,
Marine Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jawbox,
Jeff Lynne,
Buzzcocks,
The Moleskins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Ice-T,
Barbara Tucker,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brass Construction,
Wally Richardson,
Barrington Levy,
Junior Murvin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kenny Larkin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rakim,
T.S.O.L.,
Judy Mowatt,
Howard Jones,
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
Fat Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Little Man,
Circle Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
Can,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick May,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.