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 Switzerland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 James White and The Blacks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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,
Easy Going,
Man Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Walker Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
Sister Nancy,
Siglo XX,
Reuben Wilson,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Almond,
Robert Wyatt,
Gong,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Technova,
Absolute Body Control,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nik Kershaw,
June Days,
the Soft Cell,
AZ,
Bush Tetras,
Rites of Spring,
Erykah Badu,
Severed Heads,
Arab on Radar,
Charles Mingus,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Alton Ellis,
Cal Tjader,
Junior Murvin,
The Invisible,
Laurel Aitken,
The New Christs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Livin' Joy,
The Pop Group,
Pantytec,
In Retrospect,
Warsaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hot Snakes,
Barry Ungar,
Banda Bassotti,
Second Layer,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chrome,
Franke,
Electric Prunes,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.