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 Cuba and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the techno 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
New York Dolls,
Nik Kershaw,
Bill Wells,
Sandy B,
Amon Düül,
Ossler,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Byrd,
David Axelrod,
Sister Nancy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barry Ungar,
David McCallum,
Pussy Galore,
Cameo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crime,
Youth Brigade,
Pole,
Japan,
Fugazi,
Robert Wyatt,
Fela Kuti,
Vainqueur,
June of 44,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
John Holt,
Robert Görl,
Fluxion,
The Alarm Clocks,
Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Qualms,
Mars,
The Litter,
The Moody Blues,
Arthur Verocai,
Fatback Band,
Dual Sessions,
Derrick May,
Soulsonic Force,
Organ,
The Doors,
The Human League,
Public Enemy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Finger,
Sex Pistols,
China Crisis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roxy Music,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hardrive,
The Skatalites,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.