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 Argentina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Moby Grape,
Wings,
Harmonia,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
Accadde A,
Tropical Tobacco,
Zero Boys,
Khruangbin,
Skriet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maleditus Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Index,
Boz Scaggs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aaron Thompson,
the Slits,
Maurizio,
Mr. Review,
La Düsseldorf,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Slick Rick,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Angry Samoans,
Visage,
Andrew Hill,
kango's stein massive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Make Up,
Grauzone,
The Doors,
Metal Thangz,
Susan Cadogan,
Mark Hollis,
Derrick May,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joe Finger,
Ludus,
Radiohead,
The Skatalites,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
Gabor Szabo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Can,
Suicide,
Cymande,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
Quadrant,
Shuggie Otis,
Jandek,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Q65,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.