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 Suriname and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 New Age Steppers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nick Fraelich,
Ice-T,
The Beau Brummels,
Tres Demented,
Eve St. Jones,
Dawn Penn,
Babytalk,
Monks,
Dark Day,
Public Enemy,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Davy DMX,
The Blues Magoos,
Theoretical Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Organ,
Bobby Sherman,
Erasure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Livin' Joy,
Anthony Braxton,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Tremeloes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crooked Eye,
Section 25,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gories,
KRS-One,
Con Funk Shun,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bill Near,
Todd Terry,
Agitation Free,
Scratch Acid,
The Busters,
Deakin,
Kayak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stereo Dub,
Kerri Chandler,
The Searchers,
Robert Wyatt,
Faust,
Liliput,
Freddie Wadling,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
E-Dancer,
Franke,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Grass Roots,
The Birthday Party,
The Raincoats,
Eddi Front,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.