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 Djibouti and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet 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 The Gap Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacques Brel,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
Can,
The Real Kids,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
Cymande,
Skaos,
The Seeds,
Ohio Players,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Erykah Badu,
New York Dolls,
The United States of America,
Malaria!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Masters at Work,
Spoonie Gee,
Michelle Simonal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sixth Finger,
Unwound,
Moss Icon,
Terry Callier,
Ossler,
Stetsasonic,
The Associates,
Joensuu 1685,
The Beau Brummels,
Sam Rivers,
Bluetip,
Jeff Mills,
Junior Murvin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Circle Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nirvana,
Reagan Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magazine,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Flag,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
the Soft Cell,
Subhumans,
Siglo XX,
Pierre Henry,
Barbara Tucker,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Shoche,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
Guru Guru,
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.