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 Guyana and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Funky Four + One to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Unwound,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare,
Crime,
Man Parrish,
Basic Channel,
Bauhaus,
Slave,
The Real Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Symarip,
Zapp,
Masters at Work,
Minny Pops,
E-Dancer,
The Toasters,
Brothers Johnson,
Cluster,
Unrelated Segments,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erasure,
Marvin Gaye,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Litter,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Goldenarms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Newcleus,
Moebius,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Sister Nancy,
Boredoms,
The Electric Prunes,
Joensuu 1685,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harmonia,
Oblivians,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Erykah Badu,
Sugar Minott,
Sun Ra,
JFA,
Bootsy Collins,
Essential Logic,
Index,
Mandrill,
Mars,
Althea and Donna,
Moss Icon,
The Mojo Men,
ABBA,
The Techniques,
The Gladiators,
John Foxx,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.