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 Slovenia and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Cheater Slicks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Bauhaus,
Spandau Ballet,
Television Personalities,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-101,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Music Machine,
The Tremeloes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thompson Twins,
Graham Central Station,
Ronnie Foster,
Terry Callier,
Young Marble Giants,
Glambeats Corp.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cowsills,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Golliwogs,
Deadbeat,
Blake Baxter,
Leonard Cohen,
World's Most,
Derrick May,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tommy Roe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Godley & Creme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Terry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Slits,
Toni Rubio,
Fluxion,
Accadde A,
Pulsallama,
Slick Rick,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Darondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Youth Brigade,
Arthur Verocai,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
The Grass Roots,
Nils Olav,
Moss Icon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jandek,
The Cure,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.