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 Mozambique and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Blackbyrds to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flipper,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fatback Band,
Hardrive,
The Angels of Light,
Black Bananas,
Agent Orange,
Todd Terry,
Tomorrow,
Moss Icon,
The Seeds,
The Neon Judgement,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
KRS-One,
Zero Boys,
Intrusion,
Severed Heads,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Victims,
U.S. Maple,
Clear Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joe Smooth,
Hashim,
Black Pus,
In Retrospect,
Alphaville,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sun City Girls,
Dark Day,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scratch Acid,
The Birthday Party,
Magazine,
The Fall,
Blake Baxter,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
The Residents,
Sarah Menescal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Porter Ricks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tres Demented,
Black Moon,
Danielle Patucci,
The Buckinghams,
Carl Craig,
Chris Corsano,
Sonic Youth,
Subhumans,
Bush Tetras,
Yellowson,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.