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 Uruguay and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the punk 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wally Richardson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
The United States of America,
Matthew Halsall,
Albert Ayler,
Pere Ubu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
48th St. Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Matthew Bourne,
JFA,
Ronan,
Loose Ends,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yaz,
Royal Trux,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jawbox,
Cal Tjader,
Reagan Youth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Spandau Ballet,
Rapeman,
Depeche Mode,
The Busters,
The Wake,
U.S. Maple,
Chris Corsano,
Sun City Girls,
Mantronix,
Index,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Hood,
Derrick May,
Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
Talk Talk,
The Motions,
Pagans,
Hoover,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Godley & Creme,
Niagra,
Cymande,
T.S.O.L.,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.