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 Haiti and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crooked Eye to the jazz 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Minor Threat,
Funky Four + One,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
The Music Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neil Young,
Bill Wells,
OOIOO,
Camberwell Now,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bush Tetras,
Janne Schatter,
Suicide,
Niagra,
Rapeman,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon,
Procol Harum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Bronski Beat,
Pulsallama,
Rod Modell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Hot Snakes,
The Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers,
The Young Rascals,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doors,
Television Personalities,
Pet Shop Boys,
Byron Stingily,
The United States of America,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ohio Players,
Symarip,
Ultra Naté,
Mission of Burma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wasted Youth,
Scion,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
cv313,
Marc Almond,
The Divine Comedy,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
The Gladiators,
Scan 7,
The Victims,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.