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 Namibia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Knickerbockers to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare,
Joe Finger,
Infiniti,
The Pretty Things,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxy Music,
Rekid,
Carl Craig,
James White and The Blacks,
Vainqueur,
Pantytec,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mummies,
Silicon Teens,
Thee Headcoats,
Mantronix,
Alice Coltrane,
Ituana,
The Star Department,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Faust,
Hardrive,
Sparks,
Oblivians,
Con Funk Shun,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Five Americans,
Soulsonic Force,
The Residents,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camberwell Now,
Japan,
MC5,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry's Kids,
The Real Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Harmonia,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
David Axelrod,
Circle Jerks,
Drexciya,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sun Ra,
Massinfluence,
The Fall,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sam Rivers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric Dolphy,
Buzzcocks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Agitation Free,
One Last Wish,
Qualms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.