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 Pakistan 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mr. Review to the grunge 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Halsall,
World's Most,
Minnie Riperton,
Moss Icon,
Brass Construction,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Wake,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fuzztones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Ludus,
Fat Boys,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Happenings,
The Slackers,
Laurel Aitken,
Roy Ayers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nirvana,
Minutemen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Pus,
the Association,
LL Cool J,
James Chance & The Contortions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wally Richardson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Monks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Searchers,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick Morgan,
Bill Wells,
Royal Trux,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Standells,
The Gun Club,
Quando Quango,
Ronnie Foster,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Toasters,
DNA,
Wire,
Hoover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
CMW,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stetsasonic,
Section 25,
The Invisible,
the Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kas Product,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Byrd,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.