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 Guyana and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Heaven 17 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Alphaville,
Spoonie Gee,
Marine Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pere Ubu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Das Ding,
Henry Cow,
Max Romeo,
Ituana,
The Grass Roots,
Porter Ricks,
Magazine,
Ten City,
The Fuzztones,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pussy Galore,
Roy Ayers,
Ludus,
Public Enemy,
Brothers Johnson,
Icehouse,
Television Personalities,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy Collins,
Alice Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash,
48th St. Collective,
The Barracudas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scratch Acid,
DNA,
Camouflage,
Circle Jerks,
Kenny Larkin,
L. Decosne,
Dennis Brown,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gichy Dan,
Sex Pistols,
Girls At Our Best!,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Qualms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Monks,
Malaria!,
The Wake,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Eric Dolphy,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Clarke,
Faraquet,
One Last Wish,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.