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 Senegal and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Tom Boy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dirtbombs,
T. Rex,
Robert Hood,
Spoonie Gee,
Babytalk,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slackers,
Eden Ahbez,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Flag,
Aaron Thompson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ten City,
Pere Ubu,
Judy Mowatt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep,
Underground Resistance,
Wasted Youth,
The Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Audionom,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Susan Cadogan,
Iggy Pop,
F. McDonald,
Nas,
Radiohead,
Barbara Tucker,
X-102,
Sun Ra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pylon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Charles Mingus,
Reuben Wilson,
Malaria!,
John Foxx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cluster,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
The Offenders,
Lightning Bolt,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Max Romeo,
Fat Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dark Day,
Desert Stars,
Quantec,
Terry Callier,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Last Poets,
The Kinks,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.