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 Zimbabwe and from Salvador.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bill Wells to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Fugazi,
Radiohead,
Ice-T,
Gang Starr,
Neil Young,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sex Pistols,
The Knickerbockers,
The Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
The Associates,
Todd Rundgren,
48th St. Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Loose Ends,
The Last Poets,
Slick Rick,
The Blues Magoos,
Lucky Dragons,
Barry Ungar,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Modern Lovers,
Camberwell Now,
PIL,
Marc Almond,
Adolescents,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Howard Jones,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Sheep,
The Pop Group,
Model 500,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Kinks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Black Dice,
Hot Snakes,
Rakim,
The Five Americans,
The J.B.'s,
Brass Construction,
Bluetip,
Shoche,
Bobby Sherman,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
This Heat,
The Sound,
The Slits,
Panda Bear,
MDC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.