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 Bulgaria and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ohio Players to the rock 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fugazi,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yaz,
Juan Atkins,
Lindisfarne,
The Saints,
Infiniti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fatback Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Audionom,
Davy DMX,
Ultimate Spinach,
One Last Wish,
Bronski Beat,
Colin Newman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Supertramp,
John Holt,
Dave Gahan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kaleidoscope,
Skaos,
Cal Tjader,
The Last Poets,
Sparks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
Kayak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blossom Toes,
Barbara Tucker,
The Raincoats,
Hardrive,
Simply Red,
The Litter,
Sound Behaviour,
Nirvana,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Flash Fearless,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Modern Lovers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Warren Ellis,
Quadrant,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Associates,
Banda Bassotti,
Lower 48,
Cymande,
Idris Muhammad,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
Icehouse,
T. Rex,
Roxette,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.