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 Malawi and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blackbyrds to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Crooked Eye,
EPMD,
The Grass Roots,
Black Flag,
Intrusion,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kayak,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
UT,
Derrick Morgan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hoover,
Inner City,
The Stooges,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Reed,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yaz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Panda Bear,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lalann,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sonic Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thee Headcoats,
Negative Approach,
Porter Ricks,
Circle Jerks,
Cybotron,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agent Orange,
Isaac Hayes,
Tres Demented,
Warsaw,
Sun Ra,
Bill Wells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fluxion,
Jacob Miller,
The Gun Club,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Womack,
F. McDonald,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blossom Toes,
Skriet,
Eve St. Jones,
Monolake,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.