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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Leaves to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare,
Janne Schatter,
The Five Americans,
Metal Thangz,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aswad,
Monolake,
Guru Guru,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The United States of America,
Crispian St. Peters,
Siglo XX,
Wasted Youth,
The Music Machine,
The Raincoats,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fugazi,
Yaz,
Vainqueur,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dark Day,
Glambeats Corp.,
Khruangbin,
Anthony Braxton,
Intrusion,
Stiv Bators,
Zero Boys,
Magazine,
Amazonics,
Popol Vuh,
Public Image Ltd.,
Silicon Teens,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
Wings,
Barry Ungar,
Reagan Youth,
Marc Almond,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
Danielle Patucci,
Eurythmics,
Subhumans,
Joensuu 1685,
The Toasters,
The Remains,
Lou Reed,
Pulsallama,
Gang of Four,
K-Klass,
Pet Shop Boys,
Carl Craig,
The Sonics,
Wolf Eyes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Moby Grape,
Todd Rundgren,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.