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 Indonesia and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Piero Umiliani to the crunk 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Man Parrish,
Skriet,
Carl Craig,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Visage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Busters,
David McCallum,
Blake Baxter,
Jacques Brel,
Danielle Patucci,
Los Fastidios,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
Goldenarms,
John Lydon,
Jeff Lynne,
Essential Logic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Byron Stingily,
Das Ding,
Electric Prunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Mark Hollis,
Depeche Mode,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wolf Eyes,
Angry Samoans,
Magma,
Nico,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Wake,
Matthew Halsall,
Rapeman,
Alton Ellis,
Dennis Brown,
The Kinks,
Neil Young,
Ice-T,
Silicon Teens,
Nirvana,
Sight & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Howard Jones,
Ronan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bang On A Can,
Technova,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.