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 Bangladesh and from Manila.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jimmy McGriff to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Saccharine Trust,
Chris Corsano,
Avey Tare,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nirvana,
Animal Collective,
Organ,
Glenn Branca,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dark Day,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Mills,
Bush Tetras,
Rod Modell,
Drexciya,
Johnny Osbourne,
Urselle,
Maurizio,
Chris & Cosey,
Eve St. Jones,
Unwound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
K-Klass,
Cecil Taylor,
Brick,
Yaz,
Subhumans,
Severed Heads,
China Crisis,
Whodini,
Bill Near,
Little Man,
The New Christs,
Television,
New Age Steppers,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cure,
Kevin Saunderson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
ABBA,
Joe Finger,
The Moleskins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Public Enemy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Remains,
Nico,
Sam Rivers,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Womack,
Boogie Down Productions,
F. McDonald,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.