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 Sri Lanka and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 David Bowie 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 The Slackers to the techno 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Tremeloes,
Section 25,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra,
the Normal,
Alice Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
Arab on Radar,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ten City,
Brick,
Chris Corsano,
E-Dancer,
Khruangbin,
Aaron Thompson,
The Golliwogs,
B.T. Express,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soulsonic Force,
Warsaw,
The Techniques,
Jacques Brel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Niagra,
Dual Sessions,
Nik Kershaw,
Nils Olav,
Surgeon,
The Gories,
H. Thieme,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joy Division,
Wally Richardson,
Malaria!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fear,
DJ Style,
The Dirtbombs,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare,
Camberwell Now,
The Slackers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Youth Brigade,
Kerri Chandler,
Wire,
Junior Murvin,
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.