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 Oman and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Faust to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Icehouse,
Altered Images,
Suburban Knight,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
David Bowie,
Carl Craig,
The Gories,
The Move,
the Association,
The Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flash Fearless,
Saccharine Trust,
T. Rex,
DJ Style,
The Cowsills,
AZ,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Velvet Underground,
John Lydon,
Ludus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cal Tjader,
The Standells,
Wally Richardson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tears for Fears,
Main Source,
Brand Nubian,
John Holt,
Howard Jones,
Echospace,
the Normal,
Throbbing Gristle,
Robert Wyatt,
Nico,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Dolphy,
X-101,
Robert Görl,
New York Dolls,
Gastr Del Sol,
H. Thieme,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ken Boothe,
Magma,
Crash Course in Science,
Theoretical Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Y Pants,
Lightning Bolt,
Eve St. Jones,
Porter Ricks,
Supertramp,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.