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 Ivory Coast and from Paris.
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 Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 The Victims to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Mo-Dettes,
The Beau Brummels,
kango's stein massive,
John Lydon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Angry Samoans,
Tubeway Army,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vainqueur,
Rufus Thomas,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Divine Comedy,
Pere Ubu,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Robert Görl,
This Heat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
UT,
Joyce Sims,
Pagans,
Yazoo,
Tim Buckley,
The Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Grass Roots,
Black Moon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gladiators,
JFA,
Kayak,
Magma,
Pylon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Roger Hodgson,
Joy Division,
The Slackers,
The Misunderstood,
Black Pus,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Womack,
Severed Heads,
Make Up,
Drexciya,
Skaos,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.