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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Alarm Clocks to the jazz 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Music Machine,
Sparks,
Amon Düül II,
Hashim,
Pantaleimon,
Television Personalities,
PIL,
Blancmange,
Whodini,
Al Stewart,
The Neon Judgement,
Mantronix,
This Heat,
Index,
CMW,
Trumans Water,
Pagans,
X-101,
Lakeside,
Royal Trux,
Jerry's Kids,
EPMD,
Marmalade,
Ponytail,
Babytalk,
Marvin Gaye,
Ultravox,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Starr,
Liliput,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Bob Dylan,
Amazonics,
Sun Ra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joy Division,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Buckinghams,
Bronski Beat,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Young Rascals,
La Düsseldorf,
Make Up,
Warren Ellis,
Godley & Creme,
Nick Fraelich,
Joey Negro,
Altered Images,
Livin' Joy,
R.M.O.,
Inner City,
The Evens,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.