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 Gabon and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Soulsonic Force to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sixth Finger,
The Fortunes,
The Mummies,
Lungfish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sparks,
Radio Birdman,
Skriet,
CMW,
Kas Product,
Alison Limerick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
R.M.O.,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Bourne,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas,
Janne Schatter,
The Saints,
Cybotron,
Qualms,
Chris Corsano,
Nils Olav,
Country Teasers,
U.S. Maple,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Womack,
Suicide,
Alice Coltrane,
Jawbox,
The Moody Blues,
Infiniti,
Malaria!,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glenn Branca,
Don Cherry,
Monks,
The Wake,
Technova,
DNA,
Kenny Larkin,
Susan Cadogan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Whodini,
The Star Department,
cv313,
Amazonics,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Deakin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun City Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Hood,
Lalann,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eli Mardock,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.