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 Bangladesh and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 T. Rex to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Freddie Wadling,
Schoolly D,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy Collins,
Jawbox,
The Busters,
Arcadia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Cameo,
Pagans,
Reagan Youth,
Qualms,
Easy Going,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sarah Menescal,
Amon Düül,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
Gastr Del Sol,
Malaria!,
Lightning Bolt,
Crooked Eye,
Pere Ubu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
CMW,
Man Eating Sloth,
Babytalk,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swans,
Brick,
Fatback Band,
Loose Ends,
Q and Not U,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moss Icon,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bang On A Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grauzone,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Hill,
The Victims,
Tommy Roe,
Colin Newman,
Brand Nubian,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.