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 Russia and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the funk 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scan 7,
Matthew Bourne,
Agent Orange,
Todd Rundgren,
Von Mondo,
Simply Red,
Jacques Brel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Darondo,
Joensuu 1685,
Davy DMX,
The Sonics,
Lyres,
The Blues Magoos,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
Thee Headcoats,
Skriet,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris Corsano,
Freddie Wadling,
Joy Division,
Bang On A Can,
Yellowson,
Marc Almond,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick May,
The Kinks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Durutti Column,
X-102,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fugs,
Arthur Verocai,
Dark Day,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barry Ungar,
World's Most,
Josef K,
Livin' Joy,
Crash Course in Science,
Jandek,
Sam Rivers,
UT,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Underground Resistance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Don Cherry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skaos,
The Happenings,
Eric Dolphy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.