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 Tuvalu and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alice Coltrane to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Mantronix,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
Funkadelic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Patti Smith,
The Gories,
John Cale,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fluxion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Max Romeo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABC,
The Leaves,
Amon Düül II,
Can,
Minor Threat,
The Toasters,
Quando Quango,
Gichy Dan,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joy Division,
Newcleus,
Man Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Pagans,
Basic Channel,
Con Funk Shun,
Wolf Eyes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delta 5,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mojo Men,
Kerri Chandler,
Sparks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erykah Badu,
Yellowson,
Ultra Naté,
Niagra,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
David McCallum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brass Construction,
Bluetip,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Görl,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.