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 Georgia and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the theremin 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 Arthur Verocai to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Grauzone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aswad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Duran Duran,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Arab on Radar,
Technova,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
Hoover,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad,
Mo-Dettes,
Mandrill,
The Wake,
Newcleus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nico,
The Offenders,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sällskapet,
Das Ding,
The Gun Club,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sonics,
Ludus,
Malaria!,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tim Buckley,
Fad Gadget,
Carl Craig,
Lower 48,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Buckinghams,
KRS-One,
Nils Olav,
R.M.O.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skaos,
The Last Poets,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Hood,
The Beau Brummels,
Scan 7,
Altered Images,
Scott Walker,
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.