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 Comoros and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Masters at Work,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Model 500,
Cecil Taylor,
Ituana,
Rakim,
Quantec,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Golliwogs,
Dual Sessions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Godley & Creme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skriet,
Minnie Riperton,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Echospace,
Man Eating Sloth,
Intrusion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang of Four,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blancmange,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Womack,
UT,
Black Moon,
Janne Schatter,
Nico,
FM Einheit,
Tommy Roe,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
D'Angelo,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Association,
Ludus,
Urselle,
The Monks,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
Lalann,
Rekid,
Sister Nancy,
Clear Light,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crime,
Marvin Gaye,
the Slits,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scientists,
Radiohead,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.