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 Malawi and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Joe Finger to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
The New Christs,
Prince Buster,
Gang Green,
The Blues Magoos,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
Faraquet,
The Wake,
Reuben Wilson,
Cymande,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gabor Szabo,
Underground Resistance,
Bang On A Can,
The Human League,
Severed Heads,
The Misunderstood,
Kaleidoscope,
48th St. Collective,
Urselle,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ponytail,
Sonic Youth,
Soft Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker,
Pylon,
The Raincoats,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pere Ubu,
The Monochrome Set,
Faust,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Red Krayola,
The Mojo Men,
The Slackers,
Von Mondo,
the Bar-Kays,
Cybotron,
Slick Rick,
Talk Talk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxette,
Malaria!,
Chris & Cosey,
Robert Wyatt,
ABC,
Dennis Brown,
Marmalade,
The Associates,
A Certain Ratio,
Television,
Minny Pops,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlback,
Excepter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.