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 Mauritius and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 The Last Poets to the techno 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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Prince Buster,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
New Order,
The Victims,
Visage,
Franke,
Organ,
Main Source,
The Cure,
Country Teasers,
The Monks,
The Move,
Nirvana,
Dark Day,
The Names,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Flag,
Wings,
Brick,
Altered Images,
The Saints,
Livin' Joy,
Loose Ends,
The Monochrome Set,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Don Cherry,
Hashim,
Chrome,
the Normal,
Easy Going,
Spandau Ballet,
Skarface,
Faraquet,
Oneida,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mighty Diamonds,
MDC,
The Flesh Eaters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Laurel Aitken,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jacques Brel,
Saccharine Trust,
Rekid,
The Count Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Robert Görl,
The Busters,
The Star Department,
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
The Knickerbockers,
Mark Hollis,
The Techniques,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.