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 Uzbekistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Kerri Chandler to the jazz 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Subhumans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Raincoats,
John Lydon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moby Grape,
Camouflage,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Babytalk,
Avey Tare,
The Blackbyrds,
Prince Buster,
The Associates,
H. Thieme,
Reagan Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sound,
Barry Ungar,
X-102,
Ultravox,
Sound Behaviour,
Pylon,
The Divine Comedy,
Sparks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
8 Eyed Spy,
EPMD,
Rakim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joyce Sims,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
The New Christs,
Jandek,
The Trojans,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moebius,
The Beau Brummels,
June Days,
Ituana,
Cameo,
Magma,
Minnie Riperton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
KRS-One,
Gang Starr,
Ronan,
Los Fastidios,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
David Axelrod,
The Techniques,
The Move,
Nik Kershaw,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.