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 Cape Verde and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grunge 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Connie Case,
Mission of Burma,
Excepter,
Tubeway Army,
The Pretty Things,
Schoolly D,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thee Headcoats,
Mark Hollis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun City Girls,
Qualms,
Average White Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Liliput,
New York Dolls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Technova,
Scion,
The Cowsills,
The Real Kids,
Barrington Levy,
Amon Düül,
Das Ding,
Aswad,
Nico,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Motorama,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Minnie Riperton,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soul II Soul,
Lalann,
James White and The Blacks,
The Walker Brothers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Hood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nick Fraelich,
Saccharine Trust,
Subhumans,
Lightning Bolt,
The Black Dice,
a-ha,
Tom Boy,
Brass Construction,
Don Cherry,
The Mojo Men,
Grauzone,
Bill Near,
Deadbeat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.