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 Nigeria 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Robert Hood to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Gang Green,
Public Enemy,
John Lydon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare,
Radiohead,
Rod Modell,
Lindisfarne,
The Black Dice,
Blake Baxter,
Bang On A Can,
Absolute Body Control,
James White and The Blacks,
Young Marble Giants,
the Human League,
This Heat,
Youth Brigade,
Little Man,
The Toasters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hasil Adkins,
Vainqueur,
The Associates,
Ituana,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chris Corsano,
X-Ray Spex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül,
Desert Stars,
Wire,
Fluxion,
Mo-Dettes,
Nation of Ulysses,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gap Band,
Warsaw,
Bronski Beat,
Josef K,
Connie Case,
Livin' Joy,
The Kinks,
Crime,
Cameo,
Eve St. Jones,
Moebius,
Franke,
The Moody Blues,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Seeds,
The Five Americans,
Brass Construction,
The Smoke,
B.T. Express,
OOIOO,
Khruangbin,
Dennis Brown,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.