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 Uganda and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Lungfish to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
The Modern Lovers,
the Association,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Royal Trux,
Maurizio,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ornette Coleman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
The Count Five,
Warsaw,
The Residents,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
Bootsy Collins,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül,
Chris Corsano,
Lower 48,
Eric Copeland,
Au Pairs,
The Grass Roots,
Henry Cow,
The Move,
Bob Dylan,
Cluster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smiths,
Fad Gadget,
Robert Görl,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
EPMD,
Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
Brick,
Yellowson,
Angry Samoans,
Bluetip,
The Gories,
Clear Light,
The Young Rascals,
Sister Nancy,
Subhumans,
The Gun Club,
Blossom Toes,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
Junior Murvin,
The Sound,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Motions,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cure,
Derrick May,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.