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 Kuwait and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rapeman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Todd Rundgren,
Kerri Chandler,
Goldenarms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
These Immortal Souls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Byron Stingily,
Popol Vuh,
Maleditus Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
The Stooges,
DJ Style,
The Walker Brothers,
Deakin,
Organ,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dead Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Barrington Levy,
kango's stein massive,
Interpol,
Adolescents,
Archie Shepp,
Lakeside,
The Fire Engines,
Spoonie Gee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Almond,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
Sonic Youth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Massinfluence,
Whodini,
Talk Talk,
Roxy Music,
The Dirtbombs,
The Litter,
Bang On A Can,
Theoretical Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Negative Approach,
Moss Icon,
Loose Ends,
Swell Maps,
Graham Central Station,
Kool Moe Dee,
Outsiders,
Sonny Sharrock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lower 48,
Lucky Dragons,
Fatback Band,
Desert Stars,
Kas Product,
ABBA,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.