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 Croatia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rap 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Kenny Larkin,
Fad Gadget,
Oneida,
The Slackers,
Stereo Dub,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rakim,
Aural Exciters,
Connie Case,
Aloha Tigers,
Q65,
Goldenarms,
Altered Images,
Gang Green,
Leonard Cohen,
Warsaw,
The Martian,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Gong,
Lightning Bolt,
Faraquet,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
Black Flag,
Joe Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Althea and Donna,
The United States of America,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Moebius,
China Crisis,
The Neon Judgement,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wally Richardson,
Reagan Youth,
John Lydon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
PIL,
Nick Fraelich,
World's Most,
Wasted Youth,
Malaria!,
The Mojo Men,
The New Christs,
Marc Almond,
The Cowsills,
Cluster,
Japan,
Barry Ungar,
Sun Ra,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.