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 Congo 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Popol Vuh,
Gichy Dan,
The Smoke,
Marmalade,
Arab on Radar,
B.T. Express,
Delta 5,
Juan Atkins,
New Age Steppers,
The Black Dice,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Angels of Light,
Rotary Connection,
Nation of Ulysses,
Urselle,
Skarface,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül II,
X-101,
Grauzone,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kool Moe Dee,
Interpol,
Rosa Yemen,
Warren Ellis,
The Walker Brothers,
The Leaves,
EPMD,
Dorothy Ashby,
Surgeon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Inner City,
Lakeside,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The United States of America,
Marcia Griffiths,
Prince Buster,
Pantaleimon,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Toni Rubio,
Brothers Johnson,
Marvin Gaye,
Con Funk Shun,
ABC,
Scrapy,
Erykah Badu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echospace,
Young Marble Giants,
John Cale,
Brick,
Anakelly,
Negative Approach,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.