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 Togo and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Bang On A Can to the dance 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blancmange,
Lou Reed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
ABC,
Terry Callier,
Absolute Body Control,
Fluxion,
The Gun Club,
Unrelated Segments,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
John Holt,
The Angels of Light,
This Heat,
Country Teasers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Godley & Creme,
Accadde A,
Matthew Halsall,
DNA,
Eddi Front,
Sun Ra,
Robert Görl,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DJ Style,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ice-T,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Animal Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
Quando Quango,
Angry Samoans,
The Music Machine,
Tom Boy,
Reuben Wilson,
Leonard Cohen,
Intrusion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eli Mardock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faraquet,
Wings,
Technova,
Glenn Branca,
Los Fastidios,
Camouflage,
The Velvet Underground,
Dawn Penn,
Panda Bear,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reagan Youth,
Sparks,
Roy Ayers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.