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 Mauritius and from Manchester.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Misunderstood to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Juan Atkins,
Eddi Front,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Style,
The Slits,
Scrapy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Malaria!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
X-Ray Spex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed,
John Foxx,
Carl Craig,
Grauzone,
Lyres,
Aural Exciters,
Roxette,
Can,
Easy Going,
Nirvana,
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Human League,
Connie Case,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
10cc,
Radiohead,
Prince Buster,
Moby Grape,
Althea and Donna,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Terry Callier,
Masters at Work,
Black Moon,
Supertramp,
Bill Near,
Sällskapet,
Rufus Thomas,
Tim Buckley,
Ohio Players,
Absolute Body Control,
Aswad,
Kaleidoscope,
The Neon Judgement,
Sonny Sharrock,
Model 500,
The Mojo Men,
Slave,
Wally Richardson,
Soulsonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
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.