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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jesper Dahlback to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DNA,
This Heat,
Dark Day,
Simply Red,
The Searchers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Idris Muhammad,
Youth Brigade,
Stiv Bators,
The Real Kids,
Max Romeo,
Janne Schatter,
Faraquet,
Howard Jones,
Aaron Thompson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ronnie Foster,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dave Clark Five,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suicide,
Man Eating Sloth,
Slick Rick,
Fear,
Neil Young,
the Soft Cell,
Average White Band,
the Human League,
Soft Machine,
Desert Stars,
Warren Ellis,
The Grass Roots,
The Fall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bauhaus,
The Gladiators,
Accadde A,
Glenn Branca,
Iggy Pop,
Joey Negro,
New York Dolls,
Todd Terry,
Camberwell Now,
Visage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Star Department,
U.S. Maple,
Blancmange,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Moon,
David McCallum,
Harmonia,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.