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 Pakistan and from London.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rap 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Bill Near,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
MDC,
The Invisible,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pere Ubu,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
Von Mondo,
The Birthday Party,
Carl Craig,
Brothers Johnson,
Fela Kuti,
Public Enemy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barrington Levy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fire Engines,
Cymande,
Los Fastidios,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Royal Trux,
Black Sheep,
These Immortal Souls,
Leonard Cohen,
Trumans Water,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Zero Boys,
Mad Mike,
Swell Maps,
Minnie Riperton,
Organ,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Clarke,
Marshall Jefferson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pylon,
Angry Samoans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ponytail,
Y Pants,
The Motions,
Livin' Joy,
Brand Nubian,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magma,
One Last Wish,
The Searchers,
The Leaves,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jandek,
Neu!,
Davy DMX,
Suburban Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lungfish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.