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 Ethiopia and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Archie Shepp to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Cymande,
Parry Music,
The Invisible,
Piero Umiliani,
Rufus Thomas,
Accadde A,
Zero Boys,
New Order,
Mark Hollis,
Silicon Teens,
Whodini,
Sister Nancy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kaleidoscope,
Scientists,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flipper,
The Monochrome Set,
Stiv Bators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
A Certain Ratio,
Archie Shepp,
Morten Harket,
Tears for Fears,
F. McDonald,
Simply Red,
Erasure,
Ronan,
Andrew Hill,
B.T. Express,
The Gories,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fall,
Essential Logic,
Gang Starr,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
MC5,
the Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Negative Approach,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Country Teasers,
a-ha,
The Gladiators,
The Standells,
Glenn Branca,
Prince Buster,
Warren Ellis,
Wolf Eyes,
Von Mondo,
Bluetip,
Magma,
Banda Bassotti,
Pere Ubu,
Chris Corsano,
Eden Ahbez,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.