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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 Litter to the electroclash 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
the Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Symarip,
Erykah Badu,
DJ Style,
The Five Americans,
Suburban Knight,
Simply Red,
Morten Harket,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cybotron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grey Daturas,
Glambeats Corp.,
This Heat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aloha Tigers,
Clear Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radio Birdman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Lebanon Hanover,
Idris Muhammad,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Bill Near,
Flash Fearless,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Anthony Braxton,
Fear,
Smog,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Flag,
the Human League,
Josef K,
Prince Buster,
The Tremeloes,
Mars,
Sister Nancy,
Marine Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Leaves,
Hoover,
The Music Machine,
Donald Byrd,
The Selecter,
Boz Scaggs,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
The Count Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Dave Gahan,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.