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 Tajikistan and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Hashim,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fall,
Masters at Work,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed,
B.T. Express,
Nirvana,
Junior Murvin,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Almond,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nik Kershaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Juan Atkins,
X-102,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers,
Public Image Ltd.,
James White and The Blacks,
the Germs,
Excepter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Angels of Light,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fugazi,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül,
Quantec,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drexciya,
The Golliwogs,
Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Magazine,
Groovy Waters,
Sällskapet,
Freddie Wadling,
The Evens,
The Move,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bad Manners,
Letta Mbulu,
The Residents,
Mary Jane Girls,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.