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 Malawi and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lightning Bolt to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
Don Cherry,
The Slackers,
The Zeros,
Lightning Bolt,
the Human League,
Arab on Radar,
Barrington Levy,
Amon Düül,
Lungfish,
The Five Americans,
Althea and Donna,
Quantec,
The Durutti Column,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Christie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pierre Henry,
Johnny Clarke,
Bill Near,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
DJ Sneak,
Oneida,
The Smoke,
Intrusion,
Scion,
Brand Nubian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang of Four,
Nico,
Hasil Adkins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Albert Ayler,
The Black Dice,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Magazine,
Magma,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
The Red Krayola,
Symarip,
Schoolly D,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Coltrane,
The Divine Comedy,
Graham Central Station,
This Heat,
Pulsallama,
Country Teasers,
Deakin,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.