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 Colombia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tropical Tobacco 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Laurel Aitken,
Juan Atkins,
Scion,
Bauhaus,
Cheater Slicks,
DNA,
World's Most,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Duran Duran,
Deadbeat,
The Dirtbombs,
Suburban Knight,
The Five Americans,
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sällskapet,
Gang Starr,
Eve St. Jones,
Lungfish,
Sparks,
Arab on Radar,
The Sonics,
Gichy Dan,
The Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Tropical Tobacco,
Interpol,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Max Romeo,
Au Pairs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blancmange,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Johnny Clarke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Move,
Procol Harum,
Shuggie Otis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
D'Angelo,
Franke,
Iggy Pop,
Avey Tare,
Severed Heads,
Jandek,
Wire,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Vogues,
Grauzone,
Bobby Womack,
Marmalade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.