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 Norway and from Copenhagen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Roxette to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Bourne,
Soft Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Youth Brigade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Sheep,
Quantec,
the Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hoover,
Soul II Soul,
The Sonics,
The Victims,
The Pop Group,
Mantronix,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nick Fraelich,
New York Dolls,
Outsiders,
The Neon Judgement,
Rakim,
Stockholm Monsters,
Althea and Donna,
The Knickerbockers,
John Lydon,
Robert Wyatt,
Swell Maps,
Erasure,
The J.B.'s,
The Monochrome Set,
Al Stewart,
Zero Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Kinks,
Crime,
Jeff Mills,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Soft Cell,
Inner City,
Moebius,
Supertramp,
Joey Negro,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
Agent Orange,
Spoonie Gee,
The Angels of Light,
Derrick Morgan,
Groovy Waters,
Newcleus,
Faust,
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
Andrew Hill,
Suicide,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.