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 Uruguay and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalo Schifrin 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Eve St. Jones,
DNA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra,
Alison Limerick,
The Smoke,
Khruangbin,
Brothers Johnson,
Monks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Offenders,
Bang On A Can,
Mantronix,
Severed Heads,
Crooked Eye,
La Düsseldorf,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Brick,
The Walker Brothers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
Joensuu 1685,
Jerry's Kids,
Thompson Twins,
Ronnie Foster,
Q65,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gichy Dan,
A Certain Ratio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Patti Smith,
Jandek,
EPMD,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ossler,
Aloha Tigers,
a-ha,
H. Thieme,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eddi Front,
Ohio Players,
The Toasters,
Deadbeat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Babytalk,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Andrew Hill,
Camouflage,
Mission of Burma,
Roger Hodgson,
Arcadia,
The Fuzztones,
Kurtis Blow,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Leaves,
R.M.O.,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.