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 Venezuela and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Cameo,
Bluetip,
K-Klass,
The United States of America,
Ralphi Rosario,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Quantec,
Deepchord,
Masters at Work,
Funky Four + One,
Byron Stingily,
Wasted Youth,
Motorama,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fear,
Mark Hollis,
DJ Style,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
The Slits,
Skaos,
Tim Buckley,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-101,
Toni Rubio,
Pulsallama,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick May,
Don Cherry,
Malaria!,
New Age Steppers,
Harry Pussy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
OOIOO,
The Skatalites,
Pylon,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
Jacques Brel,
Reuben Wilson,
Sällskapet,
Television Personalities,
Deakin,
Desert Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
Yaz,
Grauzone,
Guru Guru,
The Mummies,
Sandy B,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sound Behaviour,
Roxette,
Minnie Riperton,
The Wake,
Derrick Morgan,
The Motions,
Vladislav Delay,
The Barracudas,
Jandek,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.