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 Zambia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 United States of America to the funk 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Dark Day,
Lakeside,
The Zeros,
the Normal,
Masters at Work,
New York Dolls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Copeland,
Toni Rubio,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
The Evens,
MC5,
Derrick May,
Second Layer,
Shuggie Otis,
Graham Central Station,
Goldenarms,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rosa Yemen,
Slick Rick,
June of 44,
Visage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nas,
Scientists,
Sun Ra,
Eurythmics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moebius,
Country Teasers,
Ituana,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Iggy Pop,
Niagra,
Eric Dolphy,
Prince Buster,
Michelle Simonal,
Anakelly,
Dual Sessions,
The Fugs,
Von Mondo,
Clear Light,
The Vogues,
Arab on Radar,
Ultra Naté,
The Pop Group,
Quando Quango,
Terry Callier,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Flag,
Rites of Spring,
K-Klass,
Echospace,
Bang On A Can,
Leonard Cohen,
10cc,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
Lightning Bolt,
DJ Sneak,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.