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 Korea North and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Animal Collective to the electroclash 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Radio Birdman,
Maleditus Sound,
Jacob Miller,
Faust,
Au Pairs,
Niagra,
Surgeon,
F. McDonald,
KRS-One,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warren Ellis,
Skriet,
John Cale,
Dual Sessions,
Tommy Roe,
Kurtis Blow,
Half Japanese,
Audionom,
Jandek,
Erykah Badu,
Khruangbin,
Judy Mowatt,
R.M.O.,
Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Saints,
Zapp,
Robert Görl,
The Misunderstood,
Metal Thangz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hashim,
Quantec,
The Cramps,
Can,
Crispian St. Peters,
The J.B.'s,
Theoretical Girls,
Dave Gahan,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Wyatt,
Eden Ahbez,
Boredoms,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mandrill,
Ultra Naté,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
A Certain Ratio,
Cymande,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harry Pussy,
Schoolly D,
Trumans Water,
Joe Finger,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.