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 Togo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Pantaleimon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Cecil Taylor,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television,
Hashim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sällskapet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Television Personalities,
The Mummies,
Fluxion,
Altered Images,
Crooked Eye,
John Cale,
Cameo,
Anakelly,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gun Club,
Pierre Henry,
Intrusion,
Pole,
Qualms,
Curtis Mayfield,
Susan Cadogan,
Animal Collective,
Ultimate Spinach,
Robert Wyatt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Goldenarms,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
KRS-One,
Grauzone,
Connie Case,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gabor Szabo,
June of 44,
Flipper,
Glenn Branca,
Ronnie Foster,
Kaleidoscope,
The Real Kids,
Smog,
Jacob Miller,
the Swans,
The Neon Judgement,
The Dead C,
Rosa Yemen,
PIL,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James White and The Blacks,
Sam Rivers,
Erykah Badu,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jacques Brel,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.