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 El Salvador and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Boogie Down Productions to the disco 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Yaz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Derrick May,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Pus,
Dark Day,
Negative Approach,
Maleditus Sound,
One Last Wish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soft Machine,
Loose Ends,
Q65,
Brick,
Ultravox,
Henry Cow,
Gabor Szabo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang of Four,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radio Birdman,
Laurel Aitken,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
Wasted Youth,
the Soft Cell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Misunderstood,
The Techniques,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pole,
David Axelrod,
Hot Snakes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blues Magoos,
Lyres,
Ultra Naté,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Toasters,
Delta 5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Raincoats,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.