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 Algeria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator 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 Mark Hollis to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Sonic Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Sherman,
Fatback Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Mark Hollis,
Dead Boys,
Byron Stingily,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Starr,
Electric Prunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gabor Szabo,
JFA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Black Dice,
the Swans,
Quadrant,
Fela Kuti,
Eurythmics,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Los Fastidios,
Main Source,
Smog,
Matthew Bourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry's Kids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gap Band,
The Moleskins,
The Music Machine,
Alton Ellis,
Symarip,
Ken Boothe,
Bill Near,
Bob Dylan,
the Sonics,
Gang of Four,
The Moody Blues,
D'Angelo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Little Man,
Warsaw,
Soft Machine,
Joey Negro,
The Litter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Holt,
Brass Construction,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas,
Letta Mbulu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cecil Taylor,
Reuben Wilson,
Howard Jones,
Dark Day,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.