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 Tanzania and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the electroclash 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Los Fastidios,
The Blues Magoos,
Ralphi Rosario,
Adolescents,
Joy Division,
Minny Pops,
Eddi Front,
Joyce Sims,
Lakeside,
The American Breed,
Minnie Riperton,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mission of Burma,
Erykah Badu,
Jerry's Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
Grauzone,
Dual Sessions,
This Heat,
Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
Barclay James Harvest,
Make Up,
Anthony Braxton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
T. Rex,
Rapeman,
Ten City,
Q and Not U,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
Blossom Toes,
Jacques Brel,
Donny Hathaway,
Surgeon,
Gichy Dan,
Sun City Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
Barry Ungar,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roy Ayers,
Deepchord,
Goldenarms,
Suburban Knight,
Sam Rivers,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
the Slits,
Boredoms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cowsills,
Man Eating Sloth,
H. Thieme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Loose Ends,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.