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 Tajikistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nick Fraelich to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minny Pops,
The Evens,
Stiv Bators,
Fatback Band,
Basic Channel,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arab on Radar,
Wolf Eyes,
Anthony Braxton,
Von Mondo,
Slick Rick,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
T. Rex,
the Bar-Kays,
Livin' Joy,
Iggy Pop,
Tubeway Army,
Colin Newman,
Fugazi,
Cheater Slicks,
Jacob Miller,
Hot Snakes,
Ornette Coleman,
Index,
Rites of Spring,
Morten Harket,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bobby Womack,
Yazoo,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Q65,
The Real Kids,
Dave Gahan,
Andrew Hill,
Shuggie Otis,
Mission of Burma,
Spoonie Gee,
Radiohead,
Buzzcocks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sex Pistols,
Deadbeat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joensuu 1685,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
The Cure,
The Divine Comedy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Schoolly D,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.