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 Ukraine and from London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the grunge 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Albert Ayler,
Absolute Body Control,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Surgeon,
Mo-Dettes,
KRS-One,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Dolphy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Blancmange,
Piero Umiliani,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Buzzcocks,
Al Stewart,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Pretty Things,
Boredoms,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Near,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Desert Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
cv313,
Man Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kenny Larkin,
Donald Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tears for Fears,
Joyce Sims,
Tubeway Army,
The Angels of Light,
James White and The Blacks,
The Toasters,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
Joe Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cheater Slicks,
Isaac Hayes,
The Busters,
The Beau Brummels,
Byron Stingily,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Leonard Cohen,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rekid,
The Fortunes,
Average White Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.