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 Swaziland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
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 harpsichord 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 Crime to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Clear Light,
The Seeds,
Robert Görl,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
DNA,
Little Man,
Spandau Ballet,
Harry Pussy,
Isaac Hayes,
Scrapy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Boredoms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
Eddi Front,
The Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Mission of Burma,
The Offenders,
Amazonics,
Max Romeo,
Fear,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Smog,
Eve St. Jones,
MC5,
Infiniti,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun City Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scientists,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marc Almond,
Sugar Minott,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cybotron,
Metal Thangz,
Carl Craig,
Soul II Soul,
Masters at Work,
Michelle Simonal,
The Move,
Dawn Penn,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Simply Red,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.