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 Bangladesh and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin 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 Eddi Front to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spoonie Gee,
Crash Course in Science,
Gabor Szabo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brothers Johnson,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Sonics,
Danielle Patucci,
Man Eating Sloth,
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
Faraquet,
Anthony Braxton,
Kenny Larkin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
the Bar-Kays,
New Age Steppers,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare,
The Doors,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sugar Minott,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
Youth Brigade,
The Evens,
The Kinks,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
Arcadia,
Judy Mowatt,
L. Decosne,
Skriet,
Scott Walker,
Marc Almond,
JFA,
Boz Scaggs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantytec,
Kurtis Blow,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Angels of Light,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.