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 Sudan and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Amazonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
EPMD,
Royal Trux,
Robert Wyatt,
Rufus Thomas,
The Residents,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Evens,
Crime,
Q65,
The Fugs,
Fluxion,
Franke,
The Knickerbockers,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Swans,
Sparks,
Albert Ayler,
The Moleskins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Agitation Free,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alison Limerick,
Warren Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
Slick Rick,
Funkadelic,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Warsaw,
Cameo,
a-ha,
Negative Approach,
Judy Mowatt,
The Slackers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amazonics,
Neu!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Audionom,
Gang of Four,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glenn Branca,
Sight & Sound,
Duran Duran,
Minnie Riperton,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flash Fearless,
Au Pairs,
the Normal,
Sister Nancy,
The Five Americans,
Black Sheep,
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Mr. Review,
ABC,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.