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 Serbia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Freddie Wadling to the grunge 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Byrd,
Q65,
Gong,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cal Tjader,
Cheater Slicks,
Nico,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Letta Mbulu,
Can,
The Misunderstood,
Funky Four + One,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
In Retrospect,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Golliwogs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David Bowie,
China Crisis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Inner City,
Circle Jerks,
Essential Logic,
One Last Wish,
Chris & Cosey,
This Heat,
Pierre Henry,
Das Ding,
The Saints,
Q and Not U,
Connie Case,
Joey Negro,
Ronan,
Whodini,
The Star Department,
Joy Division,
Au Pairs,
Franke,
Oneida,
David McCallum,
Judy Mowatt,
B.T. Express,
Ken Boothe,
A Certain Ratio,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Subhumans,
Aural Exciters,
Metal Thangz,
The Techniques,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Bourne,
JFA,
Arcadia,
Terry Callier,
The Searchers,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.