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 Moldova and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar 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 Yusef Lateef to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kayak,
The Fall,
Sun City Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fad Gadget,
OOIOO,
Au Pairs,
Buzzcocks,
Moby Grape,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bad Manners,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Zeros,
Eli Mardock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sex Pistols,
Anakelly,
Marmalade,
Carl Craig,
Tears for Fears,
Camouflage,
Zero Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Rosa Yemen,
Warren Ellis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Faraquet,
The Golliwogs,
The Invisible,
Make Up,
Boredoms,
Spoonie Gee,
cv313,
Swans,
Marine Girls,
Yazoo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June Days,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jacob Miller,
Jeff Lynne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Excepter,
Anthony Braxton,
Simply Red,
Howard Jones,
Tommy Roe,
Barbara Tucker,
Fela Kuti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agent Orange,
The Fuzztones,
The Buckinghams,
Whodini,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.