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 Niger and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
New York Dolls,
Erykah Badu,
June Days,
Lungfish,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scott Walker,
Crash Course in Science,
Maleditus Sound,
Marine Girls,
The Skatalites,
Soul II Soul,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dead C,
Pylon,
Nils Olav,
Siglo XX,
Yazoo,
Fat Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Pantaleimon,
Reagan Youth,
Unwound,
Motorama,
Maurizio,
Crispian St. Peters,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
Sun Ra,
the Sonics,
Neil Young,
Easy Going,
Fatback Band,
Ponytail,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Sherman,
Magazine,
The Fall,
The Offenders,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Near,
Marc Almond,
Joensuu 1685,
Jesper Dahlback,
Agent Orange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ronnie Foster,
Pole,
Juan Atkins,
Yaz,
Graham Central Station,
Young Marble Giants,
Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Joy Division,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quadrant,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
These Immortal Souls,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.