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 Liechtenstein and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anthony Braxton to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Von Mondo,
Mark Hollis,
Lightning Bolt,
Marmalade,
The Wake,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alison Limerick,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare,
New Order,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Malaria!,
Fela Kuti,
Chris Corsano,
The Kinks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Popol Vuh,
The Blackbyrds,
World's Most,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thee Headcoats,
The Trojans,
Junior Murvin,
Man Parrish,
Hashim,
Harry Pussy,
Charles Mingus,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Offenders,
Warsaw,
The Sound,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
PIL,
Ten City,
Robert Wyatt,
Dennis Brown,
Funky Four + One,
Radiohead,
The Grass Roots,
Heaven 17,
Bob Dylan,
Henry Cow,
Interpol,
Rakim,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Matthew Halsall,
Adolescents,
Excepter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The New Christs,
JFA,
Bootsy Collins,
The J.B.'s,
The Count Five,
Steve Hackett,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.