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 Malaysia 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the jazz 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
MDC,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric B and Rakim,
Duran Duran,
Zapp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Move,
Cecil Taylor,
Fluxion,
Inner City,
Von Mondo,
The Remains,
The Star Department,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pierre Henry,
The Pretty Things,
Underground Resistance,
Pulsallama,
Simply Red,
Yaz,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Wake,
Royal Trux,
Scan 7,
Sugar Minott,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Sherman,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brick,
Wasted Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiohead,
The Toasters,
Heaven 17,
Josef K,
Soul II Soul,
Fad Gadget,
Con Funk Shun,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barbara Tucker,
Iggy Pop,
Ronan,
X-101,
Chrome,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Suicide,
FM Einheit,
Mr. Review,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.