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 Andorra and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron 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 Brothers Johnson to the jazz 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Pere Ubu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Graham Central Station,
Reagan Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
Sam Rivers,
Sun Ra,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Quantec,
Slick Rick,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stereo Dub,
Jacob Miller,
Nas,
Jeff Lynne,
Rekid,
Traffic Nightmare,
48th St. Collective,
Vainqueur,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Prince Buster,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
EPMD,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bauhaus,
Aural Exciters,
Goldenarms,
Fear,
the Normal,
Talk Talk,
Black Sheep,
The Vogues,
The Real Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
Drexciya,
R.M.O.,
Fatback Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Funky Four + One,
Charles Mingus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Althea and Donna,
The Victims,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
Urselle,
Saccharine Trust,
Cheater Slicks,
Kerri Chandler,
Hardrive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
T. Rex,
The Dirtbombs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.