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 Lesotho and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Jawbox to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Gang of Four,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
David Bowie,
Clear Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fela Kuti,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
The Mummies,
Morten Harket,
Cybotron,
Model 500,
Sparks,
Country Teasers,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Make Up,
Bush Tetras,
Eve St. Jones,
The Black Dice,
Kool Moe Dee,
Quadrant,
JFA,
Brand Nubian,
FM Einheit,
Pere Ubu,
Liliput,
Wolf Eyes,
The Names,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rotary Connection,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Sneak,
Sex Pistols,
Metal Thangz,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Moleskins,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kerrie Biddell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Prunes,
Nick Fraelich,
Chris Corsano,
Alice Coltrane,
Average White Band,
Black Moon,
Gang Green,
Cal Tjader,
Godley & Creme,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Tears for Fears,
Minny Pops,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.