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 Mongolia and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 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 Y Pants 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec 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?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stereo Dub,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Angry Samoans,
Rufus Thomas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fall,
a-ha,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
F. McDonald,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sound,
Fela Kuti,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band,
Altered Images,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Human League,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Dolphy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wire,
X-101,
Toni Rubio,
Ituana,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hot Snakes,
Motorama,
Ossler,
The Index,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Derrick May,
Crooked Eye,
Ohio Players,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skarface,
Arab on Radar,
Johnny Clarke,
Flash Fearless,
CMW,
Robert Hood,
The Names,
Suicide,
Yellowson,
The Durutti Column,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wings,
Zapp,
A Certain Ratio,
Rapeman,
Prince Buster,
Oblivians,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.