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 Mongolia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Howard Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
World's Most,
Tim Buckley,
Second Layer,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Associates,
D'Angelo,
Clear Light,
Mandrill,
The Gun Club,
Arab on Radar,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bill Wells,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blackbyrds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Panda Bear,
Aaron Thompson,
Trumans Water,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Henry Cow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Icehouse,
Lightning Bolt,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
The Count Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brick,
Bluetip,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Intrusion,
The Red Krayola,
Newcleus,
Main Source,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wings,
Deakin,
the Normal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Traffic Nightmare,
Unwound,
Audionom,
Mark Hollis,
Arcadia,
OOIOO,
Make Up,
Ice-T,
H. Thieme,
Spandau Ballet,
The Golliwogs,
The Cowsills,
Fear,
Mary Jane Girls,
Animal Collective,
Peter and Kerry,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.