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 East Timor and from Milan.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lee Hazlewood to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Qualms,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cal Tjader,
Sun City Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
Sällskapet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scion,
Fad Gadget,
Gong,
Spandau Ballet,
Skriet,
Tres Demented,
Bad Manners,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
One Last Wish,
Buzzcocks,
Supertramp,
The Gladiators,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Surgeon,
Icehouse,
Simply Red,
The Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
10cc,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Womack,
Howard Jones,
The Trojans,
Wire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Young Rascals,
A Certain Ratio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Colin Newman,
Gichy Dan,
Quando Quango,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Don Cherry,
Gang of Four,
Second Layer,
Joensuu 1685,
Eric Copeland,
Crooked Eye,
Depeche Mode,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alphaville,
Eurythmics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wings,
Sonic Youth,
K-Klass,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alton Ellis,
In Retrospect,
June Days,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.