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 Luxembourg and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Pharoah Sanders 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Wyatt,
China Crisis,
Minutemen,
Bootsy Collins,
Nils Olav,
Tubeway Army,
Maurizio,
Jandek,
Arcadia,
Deadbeat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sandy B,
Lakeside,
The Blues Magoos,
Sight & Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unrelated Segments,
Sällskapet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Magazine,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pierre Henry,
MDC,
The Martian,
Visage,
Stiv Bators,
Cheater Slicks,
Tres Demented,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scan 7,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quantec,
the Normal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Human League,
The Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
In Retrospect,
John Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Funkadelic,
Dave Gahan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Steve Hackett,
Easy Going,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Young Marble Giants,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.