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 Israel and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Depeche Mode to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare 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 clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Marc Almond,
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
Dave Gahan,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Nik Kershaw,
Terry Callier,
U.S. Maple,
Shuggie Otis,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soft Cell,
Underground Resistance,
Simply Red,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Crispy Ambulance,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
David Bowie,
Fugazi,
Sister Nancy,
Stereo Dub,
Sun City Girls,
Mars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Anthony Braxton,
Pierre Henry,
Prince Buster,
Zero Boys,
Liliput,
Vainqueur,
Barbara Tucker,
Joy Division,
Can,
Funkadelic,
Pussy Galore,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül II,
Donny Hathaway,
Brand Nubian,
The Golliwogs,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
Althea and Donna,
Kas Product,
Rekid,
K-Klass,
Skarface,
The Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.