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 Estonia and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Ultravox to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Remains,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Don Cherry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
Fela Kuti,
Pet Shop Boys,
Derrick May,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeff Lynne,
The Knickerbockers,
Crime,
Lou Reed,
Liliput,
R.M.O.,
Index,
The Fortunes,
Moss Icon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Albert Ayler,
Supertramp,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arab on Radar,
Kenny Larkin,
Althea and Donna,
Barry Ungar,
Sight & Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Lydon,
Porter Ricks,
Eden Ahbez,
Wolf Eyes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Techniques,
Spandau Ballet,
Mo-Dettes,
The Motions,
Brass Construction,
Yaz,
Jacques Brel,
Kayak,
Niagra,
Faraquet,
Arthur Verocai,
Minnie Riperton,
The Neon Judgement,
Young Marble Giants,
Eddi Front,
Minutemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.