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 Bhutan and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rock 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skriet,
Thee Headcoats,
Roy Ayers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Velvet Underground,
Donny Hathaway,
Funky Four + One,
A Certain Ratio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smoke,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
Warren Ellis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fluxion,
Angry Samoans,
The Victims,
Sandy B,
Bad Manners,
Tom Boy,
The Gories,
Pylon,
Infiniti,
Idris Muhammad,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
the Normal,
Nico,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Offenders,
Fela Kuti,
Bizarre Inc.,
La Düsseldorf,
Minutemen,
KRS-One,
The Blues Magoos,
Hardrive,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Red Krayola,
Tres Demented,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
T. Rex,
Erasure,
Oneida,
Dark Day,
The Golliwogs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.