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 Barbados and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar 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 These Immortal Souls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets 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?
The Doors,
Traffic Nightmare,
Qualms,
The Gories,
Fad Gadget,
Blake Baxter,
Young Marble Giants,
Yazoo,
Sarah Menescal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
Radiohead,
Eden Ahbez,
the Swans,
Aswad,
Sugar Minott,
Byron Stingily,
Man Parrish,
Groovy Waters,
Fat Boys,
the Human League,
Ituana,
Marmalade,
Janne Schatter,
The Remains,
L. Decosne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
KRS-One,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Tremeloes,
Connie Case,
Peter and Kerry,
Tubeway Army,
Saccharine Trust,
AZ,
Terrestrial Tones,
World's Most,
The Walker Brothers,
Smog,
Rekid,
Amon Düül,
Fluxion,
The Human League,
Public Enemy,
Hoover,
The Trojans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Parry Music,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swans,
Prince Buster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Red Krayola,
MC5,
Gang Starr,
Basic Channel,
Iggy Pop,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.