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 Antigua 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Procol Harum,
Soul II Soul,
The Barracudas,
Outsiders,
Ten City,
Lungfish,
The Five Americans,
Sixth Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
Easy Going,
Peter and Kerry,
John Coltrane,
Henry Cow,
Tom Boy,
Shuggie Otis,
Agitation Free,
Au Pairs,
John Holt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nico,
The Cure,
The Dead C,
Ultra Naté,
The Black Dice,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The J.B.'s,
Index,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-Ray Spex,
David McCallum,
DNA,
The Blackbyrds,
Patti Smith,
Cymande,
Black Moon,
Kayak,
Stetsasonic,
Sugar Minott,
Jacques Brel,
Vainqueur,
The Monks,
MC5,
Hasil Adkins,
Camberwell Now,
The Gun Club,
X-101,
The American Breed,
The Gories,
Hardrive,
Con Funk Shun,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Young Rascals,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arcadia,
The Standells,
Suicide,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.