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 Mexico and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the techno 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Girls At Our Best!,
The J.B.'s,
Japan,
Eric Dolphy,
Suicide,
Inner City,
Derrick May,
The Trojans,
The Selecter,
The Golliwogs,
The Saints,
Lungfish,
Underground Resistance,
Oneida,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Desert Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Music Machine,
Pantaleimon,
Rosa Yemen,
Steve Hackett,
The Fall,
The Neon Judgement,
Skaos,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
Infiniti,
kango's stein massive,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
Monolake,
Intrusion,
Eric Copeland,
Loose Ends,
Bauhaus,
Magma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cal Tjader,
The Vogues,
Cybotron,
Wolf Eyes,
Delta 5,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aaron Thompson,
the Germs,
Au Pairs,
Ponytail,
Country Teasers,
Porter Ricks,
Motorama,
Altered Images,
the Normal,
Cymande,
Aural Exciters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wasted Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.