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 Iraq and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Matthew Halsall to the electroclash 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Marcia Griffiths,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Pus,
DNA,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Womack,
Rites of Spring,
ABBA,
PIL,
Connie Case,
The Birthday Party,
Malaria!,
Masters at Work,
The Searchers,
Wally Richardson,
Loose Ends,
Basic Channel,
Alton Ellis,
Ken Boothe,
The Pretty Things,
Moebius,
The Litter,
Monks,
Gang Starr,
Accadde A,
James Chance & The Contortions,
10cc,
Chrome,
Sun Ra,
The Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
EPMD,
Mantronix,
The Durutti Column,
Quadrant,
JFA,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
The Gories,
Blake Baxter,
Eric Copeland,
Marine Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dawn Penn,
The Misunderstood,
H. Thieme,
Clear Light,
Lucky Dragons,
Mission of Burma,
Marmalade,
Sparks,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick Morgan,
Tommy Roe,
Echospace,
The Velvet Underground,
Camberwell Now,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.