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 Afghanistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tres Demented to the dance 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Spoonie Gee,
The Red Krayola,
The Wake,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Model 500,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
Sound Behaviour,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Procol Harum,
Moby Grape,
Marc Almond,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
Warsaw,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Slave,
Maurizio,
The Toasters,
Funky Four + One,
R.M.O.,
OOIOO,
F. McDonald,
Soft Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Smoke,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Modern Lovers,
the Association,
The Five Americans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dave Gahan,
New York Dolls,
Aloha Tigers,
Lindisfarne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
Joy Division,
Alphaville,
The Buckinghams,
The Beau Brummels,
The Associates,
The Standells,
Marine Girls,
Shoche,
Malaria!,
the Human League,
UT,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Eurythmics,
The Seeds,
World's Most,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.