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 Vanuatu and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Monks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
The Black Dice,
Don Cherry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Image Ltd.,
KRS-One,
Unrelated Segments,
Agent Orange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
In Retrospect,
T.S.O.L.,
a-ha,
Bauhaus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maurizio,
Bang On A Can,
Jawbox,
Gang Green,
The New Christs,
Hardrive,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
Cymande,
Main Source,
Cluster,
Thompson Twins,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blackbyrds,
Todd Rundgren,
Outsiders,
Minor Threat,
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
DNA,
Basic Channel,
Y Pants,
Donny Hathaway,
Masters at Work,
Hoover,
Amon Düül II,
The Remains,
Cecil Taylor,
Roger Hodgson,
Blancmange,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
The Durutti Column,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
The Five Americans,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Seeds,
Sun City Girls,
Pylon,
Marvin Gaye,
The Techniques,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.