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 Pakistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Shoche,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Germs,
Eurythmics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Accadde A,
Pylon,
Rites of Spring,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Green,
Can,
Ludus,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Association,
Rapeman,
Slick Rick,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vainqueur,
The Golliwogs,
Erykah Badu,
Letta Mbulu,
The Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Kurtis Blow,
Iggy Pop,
John Holt,
Aswad,
Cheater Slicks,
the Soft Cell,
Faust,
Lindisfarne,
Fugazi,
Organ,
the Bar-Kays,
Suicide,
Anthony Braxton,
The Martian,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
U.S. Maple,
Suburban Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash,
K-Klass,
Dave Gahan,
Hashim,
Visage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Urselle,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minny Pops,
Ohio Players,
Darondo,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.