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 Rwanda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Alton Ellis to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
La Düsseldorf,
Joe Smooth,
Eve St. Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Fraelich,
Tommy Roe,
Vladislav Delay,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Bang On A Can,
Archie Shepp,
X-101,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Misunderstood,
OOIOO,
Todd Rundgren,
Arthur Verocai,
Main Source,
Scratch Acid,
Motorama,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Cale,
Sugar Minott,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slits,
Organ,
Pere Ubu,
Sam Rivers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slave,
Neu!,
Lou Reed,
Pole,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Anthony Braxton,
Nas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Severed Heads,
Adolescents,
Liliput,
The Searchers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Evens,
Franke,
Ultra Naté,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dirtbombs,
The Seeds,
Kaleidoscope,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Groovy Waters,
Fear,
Stetsasonic,
Moebius,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.