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 Iceland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Funky Four + One to the techno 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Hasil Adkins,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
Todd Rundgren,
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skaos,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Hood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Swans,
The Motions,
The Raincoats,
Eli Mardock,
June of 44,
Sparks,
Jeff Lynne,
Quantec,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Janne Schatter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Seeds,
New Order,
Wire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television Personalities,
Wasted Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
K-Klass,
Arab on Radar,
Harry Pussy,
Connie Case,
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sonics,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
48th St. Collective,
The Moody Blues,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arcadia,
DJ Sneak,
Babytalk,
Aswad,
JFA,
Procol Harum,
Joey Negro,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.