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 Maldives and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alton Ellis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days 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?
Wolf Eyes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
Joey Negro,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Offenders,
The Five Americans,
Chrome,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Siglo XX,
Pharoah Sanders,
Moby Grape,
Khruangbin,
Jandek,
Pierre Henry,
kango's stein massive,
Arcadia,
Chris Corsano,
Man Eating Sloth,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Excepter,
Robert Görl,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
Radiohead,
Bobby Byrd,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fall,
The Human League,
Dorothy Ashby,
June of 44,
Camouflage,
Silicon Teens,
Buzzcocks,
The Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marvin Gaye,
Babytalk,
The Durutti Column,
Black Pus,
Faust,
Schoolly D,
The Misunderstood,
These Immortal Souls,
Groovy Waters,
Japan,
Prince Buster,
Agent Orange,
Sugar Minott,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.