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 Qatar and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Halifax.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bill Wells 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
The Litter,
Oneida,
Fluxion,
The Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Juan Atkins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soft Machine,
Hardrive,
John Foxx,
The Smiths,
Cybotron,
Animal Collective,
Marc Almond,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun City Girls,
Suicide,
X-101,
The Searchers,
Banda Bassotti,
Josef K,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Lynne,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lightning Bolt,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gladiators,
Pagans,
Half Japanese,
Oblivians,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monks,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Clarke,
Tubeway Army,
Rufus Thomas,
Gong,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rod Modell,
Trumans Water,
Vladislav Delay,
Danielle Patucci,
Darondo,
ABC,
Bill Near,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.