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 Congo and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Lucky Dragons to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Barry Ungar,
The Birthday Party,
Bluetip,
Liliput,
Robert Hood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flipper,
Surgeon,
Bauhaus,
Minor Threat,
Mr. Review,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Byron Stingily,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Techniques,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
Derrick Morgan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Essential Logic,
Yazoo,
The Red Krayola,
Young Marble Giants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
The Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
ABBA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Porter Ricks,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Halsall,
The Skatalites,
Lindisfarne,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Trojans,
Boz Scaggs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Smiths,
The Invisible,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Warren Ellis,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sarah Menescal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Chris & Cosey,
Shuggie Otis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sparks,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June Days,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.