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 Guyana and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 The Remains to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Deakin,
June Days,
Mars,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arcadia,
Bobby Womack,
Carl Craig,
Minny Pops,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yaz,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Scrapy,
Camouflage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cybotron,
The Zeros,
Godley & Creme,
Black Flag,
Joe Finger,
Loose Ends,
Joey Negro,
Tres Demented,
Public Image Ltd.,
The United States of America,
The Residents,
Tommy Roe,
Scan 7,
Derrick Morgan,
Crash Course in Science,
Pussy Galore,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
FM Einheit,
Maleditus Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
Kerri Chandler,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fear,
Scientists,
Malaria!,
Babytalk,
Isaac Hayes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fela Kuti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amon Düül II,
Swans,
Nico,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rekid,
Faraquet,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.