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 Liechtenstein and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the grunge 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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Angels of Light,
Pantytec,
The Smoke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Mills,
The Last Poets,
Trumans Water,
Cybotron,
The Cramps,
Stiv Bators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Intrusion,
The Electric Prunes,
The Music Machine,
H. Thieme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Silicon Teens,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Moon,
Blancmange,
Unwound,
Masters at Work,
Morten Harket,
Brand Nubian,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rakim,
Oblivians,
Donny Hathaway,
Robert Hood,
The J.B.'s,
Aloha Tigers,
OOIOO,
Suicide,
Eve St. Jones,
Pole,
The Remains,
The Star Department,
Kurtis Blow,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Pus,
Wally Richardson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gong,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scrapy,
Japan,
Magma,
Goldenarms,
The Selecter,
Isaac Hayes,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül,
Letta Mbulu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Max Romeo,
a-ha,
The Knickerbockers,
Thee Headcoats,
Cymande,
Godley & Creme,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.