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 the UAE and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Trumans Water,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amon Düül II,
Average White Band,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
FM Einheit,
The Walker Brothers,
X-102,
The Gun Club,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang of Four,
Altered Images,
AZ,
Amon Düül,
Arthur Verocai,
Sixth Finger,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roger Hodgson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ten City,
Outsiders,
Jeff Mills,
Wally Richardson,
Ludus,
Drexciya,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Golliwogs,
Animal Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Nirvana,
Todd Terry,
Bad Manners,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
The Raincoats,
John Foxx,
Man Eating Sloth,
Max Romeo,
Brick,
Grauzone,
Neil Young,
Masters at Work,
Isaac Hayes,
Arcadia,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Holt,
The Stooges,
Procol Harum,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.