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 Cambodia and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Blossom Toes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
Sparks,
Vainqueur,
Scratch Acid,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Holt,
Nick Fraelich,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Lydon,
Sällskapet,
Angry Samoans,
The Dead C,
The Searchers,
Blake Baxter,
The Buckinghams,
David Axelrod,
In Retrospect,
Pantaleimon,
OOIOO,
Q65,
MC5,
The Fortunes,
Prince Buster,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Section 25,
Flamin' Groovies,
China Crisis,
Nas,
Bob Dylan,
The Fuzztones,
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker,
The Zeros,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
Boredoms,
Rekid,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
Franke,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Patti Smith,
The Offenders,
New Age Steppers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
Joensuu 1685,
Trumans Water,
Nirvana,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mummies,
Dennis Brown,
Scientists,
Zapp,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.