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 Gabon and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 T.S.O.L. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
Don Cherry,
Fatback Band,
Rod Modell,
John Cale,
Angry Samoans,
the Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Moon,
Vainqueur,
Kurtis Blow,
The United States of America,
OOIOO,
Oblivians,
Hashim,
Alison Limerick,
The Move,
The Golliwogs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Skaos,
The Slackers,
Cymande,
The Trojans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tres Demented,
Ronnie Foster,
Wasted Youth,
X-102,
Mars,
La Düsseldorf,
Smog,
Suicide,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalann,
The Wake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Evens,
Mantronix,
Whodini,
Ituana,
Masters at Work,
Interpol,
Mandrill,
Boogie Down Productions,
Blake Baxter,
The Seeds,
MC5,
Public Enemy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Icehouse,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Almond,
Roxy Music,
Boredoms,
The Stooges,
Main Source,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.