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 Djibouti and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 dance 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Five Americans,
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
Slave,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hashim,
The Remains,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
This Heat,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
Q and Not U,
Severed Heads,
Deadbeat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echospace,
Faust,
Siglo XX,
Model 500,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tom Boy,
Lindisfarne,
Josef K,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Eli Mardock,
Chris & Cosey,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Banda Bassotti,
The Black Dice,
Bill Near,
Lakeside,
The Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
The Red Krayola,
Brothers Johnson,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
DJ Style,
Bauhaus,
Cluster,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hoover,
Second Layer,
Gang of Four,
The Stooges,
New Order,
The Mummies,
The Evens,
Swans,
Excepter,
Monks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boz Scaggs,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.