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 Zimbabwe and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro 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 DJ Style to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Donald Byrd,
the Slits,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Bobby Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
The Smoke,
Eve St. Jones,
Echospace,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crime,
Kerrie Biddell,
Niagra,
Fugazi,
Mr. Review,
Dennis Brown,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grey Daturas,
Lyres,
The Seeds,
Brick,
The Names,
The Gap Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Janne Schatter,
Joy Division,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Charles Mingus,
Black Sheep,
Rotary Connection,
The Searchers,
Avey Tare,
The Grass Roots,
Khruangbin,
Al Stewart,
Ken Boothe,
Joensuu 1685,
The Skatalites,
Amazonics,
Lou Christie,
The Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
Das Ding,
Nico,
Slave,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Spandau Ballet,
Sun City Girls,
Brand Nubian,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Ossler,
Minor Threat,
Crispian St. Peters,
Make Up,
LL Cool J,
Colin Newman,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.