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 Samoa and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Holger Czukay 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 Ornette Coleman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
Make Up,
Altered Images,
Zero Boys,
the Slits,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacques Brel,
T. Rex,
Cameo,
Section 25,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Television,
Gerry Rafferty,
Susan Cadogan,
Soft Cell,
Popol Vuh,
Magma,
Model 500,
Arcadia,
Ultravox,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Halsall,
Chris & Cosey,
The Five Americans,
Neil Young,
Lightning Bolt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tears for Fears,
the Sonics,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Womack,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Kinks,
Hashim,
Ornette Coleman,
Glenn Branca,
Freddie Wadling,
Fluxion,
Cecil Taylor,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aaron Thompson,
Toni Rubio,
The Music Machine,
Josef K,
Roxy Music,
Man Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Amon Düül,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Crooked Eye,
Marmalade,
Johnny Clarke,
Eurythmics,
The Birthday Party,
Moby Grape,
John Foxx,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.