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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Radio Birdman to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Toni Rubio,
Mission of Burma,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Evens,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
Young Marble Giants,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
Mars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skaos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Move,
These Immortal Souls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Archie Shepp,
Sällskapet,
EPMD,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scratch Acid,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Germs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neu!,
Radio Birdman,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Womack,
Sugar Minott,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deepchord,
Suburban Knight,
Rapeman,
Bluetip,
Y Pants,
Joy Division,
Scott Walker,
Ituana,
Thompson Twins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maurizio,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun City Girls,
Nico,
Tears for Fears,
Youth Brigade,
The Modern Lovers,
Nas,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
Joensuu 1685,
Motorama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Half Japanese,
Patti Smith,
D'Angelo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
MDC,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.