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 Malaysia and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 David Bowie 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 Newcleus to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Skarface,
The Searchers,
Prince Buster,
E-Dancer,
Iggy Pop,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Section 25,
Unwound,
Sun City Girls,
Swell Maps,
Reagan Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
a-ha,
Pylon,
Bush Tetras,
Deepchord,
Negative Approach,
Basic Channel,
The Neon Judgement,
Soft Machine,
The Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sarah Menescal,
The Techniques,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Procol Harum,
K-Klass,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
The Sonics,
New Order,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tim Buckley,
Donny Hathaway,
Soul II Soul,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Al Stewart,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
Absolute Body Control,
Severed Heads,
Rekid,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Schoolly D,
Rufus Thomas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.