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 Russia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alton Ellis to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
U.S. Maple,
Glenn Branca,
Black Moon,
Letta Mbulu,
a-ha,
Niagra,
Bobby Byrd,
Vainqueur,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spandau Ballet,
Das Ding,
Siglo XX,
Crash Course in Science,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
MC5,
The New Christs,
Sixth Finger,
Scott Walker,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
Joyce Sims,
the Sonics,
The Gun Club,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grauzone,
Franke,
The Slackers,
Khruangbin,
Mr. Review,
Stetsasonic,
New Age Steppers,
The Star Department,
Zapp,
Sun City Girls,
Altered Images,
Iggy Pop,
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Normal,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Aaron Thompson,
Television,
EPMD,
Chrome,
Pantaleimon,
This Heat,
Smog,
Warsaw,
Boredoms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moody Blues,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonic Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Kas Product,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.