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 Bahamas and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb 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 Fugazi to the electroclash 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
The Remains,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalann,
The Kinks,
Man Parrish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sun Ra,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Holt,
Tommy Roe,
JFA,
Fat Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Brand Nubian,
8 Eyed Spy,
Los Fastidios,
Qualms,
Dead Boys,
Crime,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Wyatt,
Technova,
B.T. Express,
Masters at Work,
Jacques Brel,
Mr. Review,
Anakelly,
The United States of America,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dave Gahan,
Arcadia,
Warsaw,
Sister Nancy,
Roxy Music,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Max Romeo,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy Collins,
Niagra,
The New Christs,
Deakin,
The Fugs,
Excepter,
Bobby Sherman,
Nico,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABBA,
The Zeros,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
David Bowie,
Alphaville,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.