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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Magazine to the funk 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monolake,
Heaven 17,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sonics,
OOIOO,
Barry Ungar,
Symarip,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kas Product,
Royal Trux,
Soulsonic Force,
Massinfluence,
The Angels of Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fela Kuti,
Ken Boothe,
Minny Pops,
Arcadia,
The Knickerbockers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Theoretical Girls,
Joy Division,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moody Blues,
Peter & Gordon,
The Remains,
Ohio Players,
Magma,
Drexciya,
Faust,
Gerry Rafferty,
Althea and Donna,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
The Neon Judgement,
Scrapy,
Bobby Byrd,
Chris & Cosey,
Trumans Water,
Underground Resistance,
Carl Craig,
The Cure,
Sister Nancy,
Radio Birdman,
Nik Kershaw,
Dead Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
Kaleidoscope,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bluetip,
Y Pants,
Ornette Coleman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minutemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.