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 Marshall Islands and from New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 48th St. Collective to the electroclash 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacob Miller,
X-101,
Sister Nancy,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smiths,
Rakim,
Technova,
Yaz,
Bush Tetras,
Gabor Szabo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June Days,
Rod Modell,
Zapp,
Nico,
Eric Dolphy,
The Offenders,
Dead Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Carl Craig,
Livin' Joy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Massinfluence,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
Bronski Beat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angry Samoans,
Radiohead,
Los Fastidios,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Suburban Knight,
Sound Behaviour,
the Soft Cell,
Erykah Badu,
Black Bananas,
The Selecter,
The Fuzztones,
Fugazi,
kango's stein massive,
The Zeros,
The Gladiators,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sight & Sound,
New Age Steppers,
Pylon,
The Remains,
Joe Finger,
Fluxion,
Franke,
Hardrive,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.