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 Cameroon and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Vladislav Delay to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ten City,
The Young Rascals,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joe Finger,
Flipper,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Anthony Braxton,
X-101,
Glenn Branca,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
La Düsseldorf,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slits,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Royal Trux,
Lee Hazlewood,
Byron Stingily,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
The Blackbyrds,
Sister Nancy,
Donny Hathaway,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Flash Fearless,
Wally Richardson,
June Days,
Blancmange,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moebius,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
Fugazi,
Gang Gang Dance,
The American Breed,
The Kinks,
Rakim,
Slick Rick,
Smog,
Eden Ahbez,
The Happenings,
Roger Hodgson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stockholm Monsters,
Main Source,
The Standells,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harry Pussy,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.