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 Mozambique and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 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 the Fania All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Womack,
Albert Ayler,
The Toasters,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slackers,
Eden Ahbez,
Kenny Larkin,
AZ,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amazonics,
Das Ding,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cure,
The Mojo Men,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Christie,
L. Decosne,
Minutemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Selecter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jacques Brel,
Gang of Four,
Ultra Naté,
Young Marble Giants,
Severed Heads,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cecil Taylor,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joey Negro,
The Vogues,
Bang On A Can,
The Fugs,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Subhumans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Young Rascals,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jandek,
Smog,
Jesper Dahlback,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deepchord,
Quantec,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.