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 Guatemala and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Matthew Bourne,
Mark Hollis,
Suicide,
John Coltrane,
Letta Mbulu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Velvet Underground,
AZ,
Camberwell Now,
Dave Gahan,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Qualms,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter,
Erasure,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
Infiniti,
Procol Harum,
Matthew Halsall,
Von Mondo,
Malaria!,
Public Enemy,
Kenny Larkin,
The Standells,
The Gap Band,
Barrington Levy,
Althea and Donna,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Golliwogs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eurythmics,
Agitation Free,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ossler,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
The Moleskins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wolf Eyes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Circle Jerks,
Scrapy,
48th St. Collective,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
F. McDonald,
Negative Approach,
Scratch Acid,
The Blackbyrds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Lynne,
Thompson Twins,
Soul Sonic Force,
Buzzcocks,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.