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 Andorra and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crispian St. Peters to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb 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 sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Funkadelic,
Crime,
David Bowie,
Marine Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
The Associates,
The Alarm Clocks,
Royal Trux,
John Cale,
Jawbox,
The Angels of Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Slave,
Bauhaus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Wings,
The Index,
The Toasters,
Grandmaster Flash,
World's Most,
The Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mark Hollis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Almond,
Stiv Bators,
Joe Finger,
Joyce Sims,
Fat Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Kurtis Blow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blossom Toes,
Tim Buckley,
Subhumans,
Pantytec,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
The Fuzztones,
The Offenders,
The Divine Comedy,
Brass Construction,
Avey Tare,
The Blues Magoos,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fugs,
Ohio Players,
Freddie Wadling,
Yellowson,
Roxette,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.