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 Bahrain and from London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Roy Ayers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Gastr Del Sol,
Loose Ends,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Neon Judgement,
Crime,
The Real Kids,
Erykah Badu,
The Raincoats,
Absolute Body Control,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skarface,
Minnie Riperton,
Fatback Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blossom Toes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bauhaus,
The Associates,
UT,
Negative Approach,
Tommy Roe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yazoo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Normal,
Janne Schatter,
Little Man,
Nico,
Das Ding,
Liliput,
Section 25,
Angry Samoans,
Tom Boy,
Dawn Penn,
T.S.O.L.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yaz,
The Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Connie Case,
Talk Talk,
Lakeside,
Oneida,
The United States of America,
Eric Copeland,
Make Up,
Iggy Pop,
X-101,
Quando Quango,
Marvin Gaye,
The New Christs,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
Brass Construction,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
Deadbeat,
Alphaville,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.