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 Congo and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Circle Jerks,
The Smiths,
Liliput,
Camouflage,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric Dolphy,
Von Mondo,
Con Funk Shun,
Wings,
FM Einheit,
Bush Tetras,
DJ Style,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The American Breed,
Shoche,
Accadde A,
Matthew Bourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Donny Hathaway,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Green,
Blancmange,
The Flesh Eaters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
Pulsallama,
The Mummies,
Bootsy Collins,
The Invisible,
Malaria!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bluetip,
Swans,
Robert Wyatt,
Juan Atkins,
Mission of Burma,
Janne Schatter,
The Black Dice,
Chris & Cosey,
The Star Department,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Leonard Cohen,
H. Thieme,
Lou Christie,
OOIOO,
The Slackers,
Livin' Joy,
Tomorrow,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roy Ayers,
the Soft Cell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
Connie Case,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.