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 Zimbabwe and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Infiniti to the techno 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Mandrill,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rosa Yemen,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Terry,
Sex Pistols,
The Kinks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Traffic Nightmare,
UT,
La Düsseldorf,
Fugazi,
8 Eyed Spy,
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radiohead,
Mars,
The Offenders,
Lucky Dragons,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scratch Acid,
Black Bananas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Certain Ratio,
Television,
Inner City,
Animal Collective,
Joe Smooth,
The Saints,
The Black Dice,
the Bar-Kays,
Vainqueur,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Finger,
Rekid,
Oblivians,
Niagra,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Skatalites,
Yusef Lateef,
Alton Ellis,
Derrick Morgan,
Guru Guru,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Joyce Sims,
Barbara Tucker,
Infiniti,
Minnie Riperton,
Pierre Henry,
The Standells,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.