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 Yemen and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 The Count Five to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Lindisfarne,
the Germs,
Juan Atkins,
R.M.O.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Bar-Kays,
Tommy Roe,
Stetsasonic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Near,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Red Krayola,
Hasil Adkins,
Roger Hodgson,
Man Parrish,
Chrome,
Kerri Chandler,
Eli Mardock,
Godley & Creme,
ABC,
David McCallum,
Neu!,
Bluetip,
The Cowsills,
Cecil Taylor,
Newcleus,
Ossler,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Jerry's Kids,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alice Coltrane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hardrive,
Skarface,
T.S.O.L.,
Graham Central Station,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Interpol,
Unwound,
Animal Collective,
Sight & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Connie Case,
Joensuu 1685,
Lungfish,
Gang of Four,
Hashim,
Bronski Beat,
Johnny Clarke,
Grauzone,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.