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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
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 linndrum 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 cv313 to the rap 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Doors,
Rapeman,
the Slits,
The Fire Engines,
Pierre Henry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magma,
The Cramps,
Los Fastidios,
Eddi Front,
John Cale,
Suicide,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Echospace,
Severed Heads,
Subhumans,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
The Standells,
Andrew Hill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Michelle Simonal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Siglo XX,
John Holt,
Nirvana,
FM Einheit,
Liliput,
The Birthday Party,
The Kinks,
Moby Grape,
Scratch Acid,
Charles Mingus,
Vladislav Delay,
The Young Rascals,
The United States of America,
E-Dancer,
Nils Olav,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quando Quango,
Sarah Menescal,
Carl Craig,
Wire,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monks,
Don Cherry,
Bill Near,
the Soft Cell,
The Gap Band,
John Foxx,
Steve Hackett,
Cymande,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.