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 Belgium and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronnie Foster,
Guru Guru,
The Black Dice,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bill Wells,
Donny Hathaway,
The Red Krayola,
Althea and Donna,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minor Threat,
Barclay James Harvest,
Godley & Creme,
Pylon,
Angry Samoans,
Barrington Levy,
Lucky Dragons,
The Skatalites,
the Germs,
LL Cool J,
The Happenings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hasil Adkins,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris & Cosey,
Nik Kershaw,
Kas Product,
Erasure,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fatback Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Sarah Menescal,
The Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare,
Popol Vuh,
Ice-T,
Peter & Gordon,
Rufus Thomas,
Bauhaus,
Q and Not U,
Joe Finger,
Blancmange,
The Remains,
Roger Hodgson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gichy Dan,
Livin' Joy,
The Modern Lovers,
Agent Orange,
Minny Pops,
Easy Going,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.