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 Papua New Guinea and from London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Second Layer,
Urselle,
The Martian,
The Gun Club,
Arcadia,
The Gladiators,
X-Ray Spex,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
Bluetip,
Angry Samoans,
Newcleus,
OOIOO,
The Fall,
Bad Manners,
Yazoo,
Arab on Radar,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Public Enemy,
Soft Machine,
David Axelrod,
Can,
Quando Quango,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed,
Kaleidoscope,
The Divine Comedy,
Boredoms,
Pere Ubu,
Piero Umiliani,
Stiv Bators,
Sister Nancy,
Ossler,
The Cure,
Blossom Toes,
Harmonia,
10cc,
Bauhaus,
Hashim,
Tom Boy,
Minny Pops,
David Bowie,
X-101,
Crooked Eye,
The Offenders,
Fear,
Ice-T,
Gong,
DJ Style,
Infiniti,
Connie Case,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fuzztones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monolake,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jandek,
June Days,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Matthew Halsall,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.