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 Sierra Leone and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nick Fraelich to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Junior Murvin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Freddie Wadling,
Marshall Jefferson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Moon,
D'Angelo,
the Germs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Byron Stingily,
Yazoo,
Hardrive,
Thompson Twins,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Can,
Ronnie Foster,
Trumans Water,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sandy B,
UT,
Tomorrow,
Main Source,
Cecil Taylor,
Supertramp,
Organ,
John Cale,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DNA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Magazine,
Steve Hackett,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
China Crisis,
The Busters,
Sound Behaviour,
the Slits,
Gang Gang Dance,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fire Engines,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Cure,
The Moleskins,
The Wake,
Bad Manners,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed,
Eden Ahbez,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Japan,
La Düsseldorf,
Sister Nancy,
Rod Modell,
Scrapy,
Basic Channel,
The Evens,
Ponytail,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.