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 Papua New Guinea and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Lou Reed 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 Eric Dolphy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magazine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
La Düsseldorf,
The Birthday Party,
Letta Mbulu,
Con Funk Shun,
Minutemen,
Talk Talk,
Unwound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Organ,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Schoolly D,
Lindisfarne,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bad Manners,
Blancmange,
Eric Copeland,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mojo Men,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DJ Sneak,
Chris & Cosey,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Albert Ayler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moss Icon,
Howard Jones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
D'Angelo,
Lakeside,
X-102,
Porter Ricks,
Eurythmics,
Harmonia,
The Associates,
Altered Images,
Fear,
Essential Logic,
Cymande,
Malaria!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alison Limerick,
Skaos,
Blake Baxter,
Zapp,
The Index,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shoche,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.