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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Wyatt to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
Rod Modell,
Suicide,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ludus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Altered Images,
Barry Ungar,
Joyce Sims,
X-101,
Chris & Cosey,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Byrd,
Lungfish,
Quantec,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
The Angels of Light,
Make Up,
Nick Fraelich,
Junior Murvin,
Khruangbin,
Royal Trux,
June of 44,
the Fania All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crime,
Fat Boys,
Country Teasers,
John Cale,
Deepchord,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
James White and The Blacks,
Moebius,
Don Cherry,
Mad Mike,
Surgeon,
Mars,
Dead Boys,
Fugazi,
Rosa Yemen,
Rapeman,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Icehouse,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jawbox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
Johnny Osbourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Swell Maps,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ronnie Foster,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Steve Hackett,
Marmalade,
The Martian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Associates,
the Normal,
Negative Approach,
Boredoms,
Boz Scaggs,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.