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 Togo and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Ornette Coleman to the jazz 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Soft Machine,
Au Pairs,
Severed Heads,
Ralphi Rosario,
Con Funk Shun,
Jandek,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun Ra,
Joy Division,
Excepter,
the Bar-Kays,
Alton Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wings,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Essential Logic,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
Man Parrish,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
Banda Bassotti,
The Knickerbockers,
Parry Music,
Piero Umiliani,
Funky Four + One,
Eve St. Jones,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scientists,
China Crisis,
Albert Ayler,
Warsaw,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Interpol,
Little Man,
Brick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Electric Prunes,
Nirvana,
Wally Richardson,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
Delta 5,
Sex Pistols,
Magma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grauzone,
Scrapy,
Ronan,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.