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 Philippines and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Franke 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Motions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lightning Bolt,
the Human League,
Agitation Free,
Silicon Teens,
The Blackbyrds,
Stereo Dub,
Lucky Dragons,
Jawbox,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
The Slackers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amazonics,
Whodini,
Todd Terry,
The Fugs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Flesh Eaters,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gun Club,
Pierre Henry,
The Neon Judgement,
Monks,
The Pretty Things,
Crispian St. Peters,
Livin' Joy,
Faraquet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Howard Jones,
Lyres,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deakin,
Robert Wyatt,
Bob Dylan,
Byron Stingily,
Severed Heads,
Kas Product,
Reuben Wilson,
Khruangbin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Black Dice,
H. Thieme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delta 5,
Radio Birdman,
Boredoms,
Jacob Miller,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Trojans,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed,
Chrome,
The Dead C,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.