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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Leonard Cohen to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Qualms,
Dennis Brown,
Crispy Ambulance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rosa Yemen,
Fear,
KRS-One,
Derrick Morgan,
Technova,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Michelle Simonal,
Davy DMX,
The Gun Club,
The Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Whodini,
Jeff Mills,
Unrelated Segments,
Tubeway Army,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Bananas,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Clarke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rufus Thomas,
Rhythm & Sound,
David Bowie,
Crooked Eye,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
June of 44,
Graham Central Station,
Minny Pops,
Wolf Eyes,
Dual Sessions,
Black Moon,
AZ,
Boredoms,
B.T. Express,
Ludus,
Eddi Front,
Soulsonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
Los Fastidios,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Connie Case,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Hill,
The Litter,
Throbbing Gristle,
The American Breed,
Organ,
Black Sheep,
Hardrive,
Magma,
Faust,
Jacob Miller,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.