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 Grenada and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Essential Logic to the jazz 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Seeds,
Echospace,
Pole,
Andrew Hill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Girls At Our Best!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wire,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
Man Parrish,
Hardrive,
Whodini,
Gichy Dan,
Stereo Dub,
Fugazi,
The Wake,
Japan,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Beau Brummels,
Toni Rubio,
Sam Rivers,
Agent Orange,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mojo Men,
Aaron Thompson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Idris Muhammad,
The Saints,
Kool Moe Dee,
Von Mondo,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Real Kids,
Robert Görl,
Aswad,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Star Department,
Scratch Acid,
Dark Day,
John Holt,
Avey Tare,
The Victims,
T. Rex,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.