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 Bahamas and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Standells to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultravox,
The Techniques,
The Music Machine,
The Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Excepter,
Terry Callier,
Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jawbox,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bauhaus,
Ice-T,
Monks,
Lyres,
Jerry's Kids,
Sixth Finger,
Patti Smith,
John Holt,
Judy Mowatt,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stetsasonic,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Womack,
Zero Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
Average White Band,
The Gories,
Spandau Ballet,
The Tremeloes,
Procol Harum,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Rundgren,
Liliput,
Tommy Roe,
Country Teasers,
Depeche Mode,
The Kinks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Motions,
X-Ray Spex,
Rites of Spring,
Sex Pistols,
Rosa Yemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mission of Burma,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.