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 Lesotho and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Jerry's Kids,
The Toasters,
CMW,
Robert Wyatt,
Bush Tetras,
Brick,
Sister Nancy,
Dawn Penn,
Shoche,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cal Tjader,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Severed Heads,
Guru Guru,
Pere Ubu,
Half Japanese,
Grauzone,
The Fuzztones,
Freddie Wadling,
Tom Boy,
Stiv Bators,
Black Sheep,
Dead Boys,
Skriet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Slits,
The Grass Roots,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Los Fastidios,
Kevin Saunderson,
A Certain Ratio,
Cameo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mission of Burma,
Con Funk Shun,
Smog,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gun Club,
Soulsonic Force,
Cybotron,
Essential Logic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joyce Sims,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Lynne,
Thompson Twins,
Pulsallama,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Urselle,
Masters at Work,
Schoolly D,
Deadbeat,
Oblivians,
The Busters,
Fad Gadget,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.