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 Palau and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Niagra to the jazz 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Leonard Cohen,
Rekid,
Eli Mardock,
Procol Harum,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Easy Going,
Deakin,
Minor Threat,
Lightning Bolt,
Schoolly D,
Prince Buster,
JFA,
Amon Düül,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brand Nubian,
X-Ray Spex,
Little Man,
The Residents,
Siglo XX,
Delta 5,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lalann,
Tears for Fears,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Golliwogs,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Hill,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nas,
Ronan,
Ohio Players,
Arthur Verocai,
10cc,
Ken Boothe,
Boz Scaggs,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mojo Men,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
Circle Jerks,
Silicon Teens,
John Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Agitation Free,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nils Olav,
Black Flag,
Make Up,
Byron Stingily,
Q and Not U,
Sex Pistols,
Soulsonic Force,
Television Personalities,
Blancmange,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.