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 Bahrain and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rap 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Technova,
X-102,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dead C,
Arcadia,
Altered Images,
Derrick Morgan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Anthony Braxton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Visage,
Idris Muhammad,
The Leaves,
Hardrive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slick Rick,
Bill Near,
Ornette Coleman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Almond,
Sixth Finger,
The Fugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Normal,
The J.B.'s,
Jacob Miller,
Suicide,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
The Busters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bang On A Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter and Kerry,
Josef K,
The Pretty Things,
Pagans,
David Axelrod,
Tubeway Army,
Warren Ellis,
Surgeon,
Rod Modell,
The Offenders,
DNA,
the Association,
Aswad,
The Monochrome Set,
F. McDonald,
Saccharine Trust,
Letta Mbulu,
Severed Heads,
Franke,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.