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 Singapore and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the punk 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Wally Richardson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun Ra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Görl,
Aaron Thompson,
Swell Maps,
Suburban Knight,
The Leaves,
The Saints,
Fad Gadget,
The Neon Judgement,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
Piero Umiliani,
The Black Dice,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agitation Free,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mars,
Junior Murvin,
The Last Poets,
Hashim,
Little Man,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
Nils Olav,
Radiohead,
Warren Ellis,
Surgeon,
Terry Callier,
The Five Americans,
Don Cherry,
B.T. Express,
Eden Ahbez,
John Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
New Age Steppers,
Deakin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nick Fraelich,
Brand Nubian,
Yazoo,
U.S. Maple,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultra Naté,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
The Golliwogs,
Buzzcocks,
Patti Smith,
Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.