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 Azerbaijan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 Blossom Toes to the disco 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Prince Buster,
Sun City Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Zapp,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Residents,
Moby Grape,
Graham Central Station,
the Bar-Kays,
Darondo,
Oneida,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Idris Muhammad,
the Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Crime,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Colin Newman,
Blancmange,
Davy DMX,
DNA,
Eric Dolphy,
The Vogues,
The Techniques,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed,
Moebius,
Eric Copeland,
Nick Fraelich,
Mantronix,
Von Mondo,
Interpol,
Shoche,
The American Breed,
Symarip,
Dual Sessions,
Joy Division,
The Neon Judgement,
Yaz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
a-ha,
Brick,
Agent Orange,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cymande,
David Axelrod,
Boz Scaggs,
Lower 48,
Moss Icon,
Lungfish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David Bowie,
The Dead C,
Icehouse,
Zero Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.