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 Monaco and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 The Electric Prunes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Pole,
Ultravox,
Mo-Dettes,
Clear Light,
Black Sheep,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-Ray Spex,
T. Rex,
Nik Kershaw,
Angry Samoans,
Hashim,
Cybotron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Suicide,
David Axelrod,
Sarah Menescal,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DNA,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Clarke,
Slick Rick,
Youth Brigade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fela Kuti,
Soul II Soul,
The Real Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anthony Braxton,
B.T. Express,
Marvin Gaye,
the Human League,
Whodini,
Sandy B,
the Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Monochrome Set,
Franke,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marc Almond,
OOIOO,
One Last Wish,
Au Pairs,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
Davy DMX,
Skriet,
LL Cool J,
The Standells,
Lightning Bolt,
Toni Rubio,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang Green,
John Holt,
Absolute Body Control,
Tomorrow,
Robert Wyatt,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.