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 Uganda and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grunge 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
the Human League,
Davy DMX,
Nik Kershaw,
Pantaleimon,
T. Rex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ossler,
Lindisfarne,
Brothers Johnson,
UT,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Smiths,
the Bar-Kays,
R.M.O.,
PIL,
Stetsasonic,
Eddi Front,
Warsaw,
Maurizio,
the Sonics,
Mark Hollis,
Rufus Thomas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sugar Minott,
The Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arcadia,
Loose Ends,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dave Gahan,
The Knickerbockers,
Lower 48,
Crash Course in Science,
Erykah Badu,
Godley & Creme,
ABC,
Marvin Gaye,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Womack,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Index,
The Tremeloes,
New York Dolls,
The Music Machine,
kango's stein massive,
Mars,
Iggy Pop,
Toni Rubio,
The Moleskins,
Eric B and Rakim,
E-Dancer,
Peter & Gordon,
The Happenings,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.