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 Benin and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Blake Baxter 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sound Behaviour,
Neil Young,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Infiniti,
Alice Coltrane,
Danielle Patucci,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Lungfish,
AZ,
the Germs,
Fugazi,
Nick Fraelich,
Al Stewart,
The Names,
Supertramp,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
Robert Görl,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Icehouse,
FM Einheit,
Todd Terry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dave Gahan,
Aaron Thompson,
Scrapy,
New Order,
The Gun Club,
Ice-T,
John Holt,
Mo-Dettes,
New York Dolls,
Interpol,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
MC5,
Trumans Water,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
The Searchers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joe Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Deepchord,
Ituana,
Graham Central Station,
R.M.O.,
Von Mondo,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gladiators,
Kevin Saunderson,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Hood,
The Trojans,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.