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 Algeria and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Franke to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
Icehouse,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed,
Moebius,
D'Angelo,
Q and Not U,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Buzzcocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maleditus Sound,
Ice-T,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Human League,
Joey Negro,
Zapp,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacob Miller,
Fear,
Sex Pistols,
Dark Day,
CMW,
Steve Hackett,
The Real Kids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minor Threat,
MDC,
The Angels of Light,
David Axelrod,
David Bowie,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
L. Decosne,
Lyres,
Blossom Toes,
Dawn Penn,
Davy DMX,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ohio Players,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
The Slits,
The Neon Judgement,
Gregory Isaacs,
Newcleus,
Sparks,
The Seeds,
Unwound,
The Dave Clark Five,
K-Klass,
Rosa Yemen,
Shoche,
Barbara Tucker,
Liliput,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jerry's Kids,
Scan 7,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.