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 Djibouti and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the dance 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
Neu!,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Moon,
The Fall,
Parry Music,
Delta 5,
Maurizio,
Fatback Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Fraelich,
James Chance & The Contortions,
New Order,
Saccharine Trust,
Danielle Patucci,
This Heat,
Average White Band,
Josef K,
Kenny Larkin,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Skatalites,
The Remains,
Robert Görl,
Suicide,
Gil Scott Heron,
Depeche Mode,
Alice Coltrane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Public Enemy,
David Bowie,
Lungfish,
Qualms,
Negative Approach,
Infiniti,
The Techniques,
Dawn Penn,
Ultra Naté,
The Seeds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronan,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Surgeon,
The Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.