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 Burkina and from Spokane.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 the Bar-Kays to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Fugazi,
Wasted Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
T.S.O.L.,
The Knickerbockers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sugar Minott,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Skatalites,
The Gap Band,
Pierre Henry,
Y Pants,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masters at Work,
Eric Copeland,
Fat Boys,
Symarip,
Erasure,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Görl,
Funkadelic,
Smog,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
X-Ray Spex,
Supertramp,
The Alarm Clocks,
New York Dolls,
June Days,
the Slits,
Scott Walker,
Main Source,
Rites of Spring,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stetsasonic,
Index,
The Misunderstood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Television,
Half Japanese,
Bad Manners,
Dawn Penn,
Crash Course in Science,
Ituana,
Marvin Gaye,
Banda Bassotti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magma,
Soft Cell,
Clear Light,
Camouflage,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
The New Christs,
Tommy Roe,
Alton Ellis,
Bauhaus,
The Gories,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.