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 Swaziland and from Bologna.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the funk 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker,
Ultra Naté,
Warren Ellis,
The Buckinghams,
Vainqueur,
The Gladiators,
Sixth Finger,
Khruangbin,
Maurizio,
Interpol,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dirtbombs,
Faust,
The Offenders,
MDC,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tom Boy,
The Seeds,
Guru Guru,
Susan Cadogan,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deakin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
The Smiths,
The Tremeloes,
Desert Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Coltrane,
Ice-T,
Grauzone,
E-Dancer,
Bush Tetras,
Radiopuhelimet,
Radiohead,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Fraelich,
48th St. Collective,
Organ,
Scientists,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fugs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terry Callier,
FM Einheit,
Drive Like Jehu,
World's Most,
Davy DMX,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joyce Sims,
Darondo,
Smog,
Oblivians,
Rotary Connection,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.