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 Kenya and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Gun Club to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Clear Light,
Chrome,
Gabor Szabo,
New Age Steppers,
Wally Richardson,
Severed Heads,
The Fire Engines,
R.M.O.,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MDC,
Babytalk,
The Kinks,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Skaos,
David Axelrod,
Thee Headcoats,
Pet Shop Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Gang Dance,
LL Cool J,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxy Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minor Threat,
Erykah Badu,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Drexciya,
Michelle Simonal,
Kerri Chandler,
Eddi Front,
a-ha,
K-Klass,
China Crisis,
John Lydon,
B.T. Express,
Connie Case,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Young Rascals,
Pussy Galore,
Metal Thangz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Country Teasers,
Nik Kershaw,
Fear,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Bob Dylan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Golliwogs,
10cc,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Reagan Youth,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.