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 Azerbaijan and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Shoche to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Radiohead,
The Standells,
Colin Newman,
Warren Ellis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Gastr Del Sol,
D'Angelo,
48th St. Collective,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Todd Rundgren,
a-ha,
Erasure,
Swans,
Unwound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rosa Yemen,
Visage,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kaleidoscope,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
Porter Ricks,
Reagan Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fuzztones,
Altered Images,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marvin Gaye,
Ultra Naté,
Fela Kuti,
Essential Logic,
Nirvana,
Brass Construction,
Tres Demented,
Jeru the Damaja,
Inner City,
Amon Düül II,
Yazoo,
Sister Nancy,
June Days,
China Crisis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Subhumans,
Aloha Tigers,
The Star Department,
Absolute Body Control,
Young Marble Giants,
The Move,
Anthony Braxton,
Rites of Spring,
Donald Byrd,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alice Coltrane,
the Association,
Half Japanese,
Donny Hathaway,
John Coltrane,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.