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 Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Michael McDonald 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 Liliput to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Ken Boothe,
Barry Ungar,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Graham Central Station,
Vainqueur,
Bob Dylan,
Cluster,
Hot Snakes,
Wings,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Subhumans,
Visage,
The Skatalites,
Brick,
Leonard Cohen,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Lucky Dragons,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Slackers,
Minny Pops,
Vladislav Delay,
Unwound,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fear,
Pulsallama,
Joe Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Colin Newman,
Cymande,
The Martian,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
The Busters,
Groovy Waters,
Mantronix,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
Japan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
cv313,
Althea and Donna,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Cell,
Gabor Szabo,
Babytalk,
Nico,
Black Bananas,
The Cure,
The Durutti Column,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare,
Yellowson,
Albert Ayler,
Roger Hodgson,
Gong,
Swans,
Easy Going,
The Offenders,
The Residents,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.