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 Jamaica and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Heaven 17 to the funk 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Loose Ends,
The Gladiators,
Skriet,
Interpol,
Bobby Byrd,
John Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Pet Shop Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Pretty Things,
Faraquet,
Maurizio,
Bob Dylan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeff Mills,
the Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Barrington Levy,
Spandau Ballet,
Circle Jerks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flipper,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
T.S.O.L.,
The Litter,
Skarface,
Suicide,
Boogie Down Productions,
Livin' Joy,
Wire,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angry Samoans,
The Electric Prunes,
Von Mondo,
Hashim,
Ken Boothe,
James White and The Blacks,
Yaz,
The Victims,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Young Marble Giants,
Mad Mike,
Steve Hackett,
Derrick Morgan,
MC5,
Groovy Waters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arcadia,
The Moody Blues,
Ultra Naté,
Jacques Brel,
Hardrive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
L. Decosne,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.