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 Lithuania and from Paris.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Faraquet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
It's A Beautiful Day,
KRS-One,
Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bill Wells,
Ituana,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tears for Fears,
Oneida,
Banda Bassotti,
Susan Cadogan,
Hardrive,
Trumans Water,
The Neon Judgement,
Can,
the Sonics,
K-Klass,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Finger,
Rotary Connection,
Ohio Players,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Von Mondo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quando Quango,
Peter and Kerry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Johnny Clarke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terrestrial Tones,
UT,
Marvin Gaye,
Angry Samoans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Robert Wyatt,
Yazoo,
Terry Callier,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Josef K,
Soft Cell,
Cymande,
Mars,
Rod Modell,
ABC,
Los Fastidios,
Pole,
the Soft Cell,
The Skatalites,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Babytalk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Iggy Pop,
D'Angelo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.