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 Solomon Islands and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Sandy B to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Glambeats Corp.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eddi Front,
The Happenings,
Guru Guru,
Duran Duran,
Motorama,
Babytalk,
Funky Four + One,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dave Gahan,
Man Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
Flash Fearless,
OOIOO,
Girls At Our Best!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
MC5,
Archie Shepp,
the Germs,
Alton Ellis,
Skaos,
The Residents,
Deakin,
Minor Threat,
T. Rex,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dawn Penn,
D'Angelo,
Robert Wyatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Suicide,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Surgeon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Pus,
X-102,
One Last Wish,
Prince Buster,
Jandek,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Real Kids,
Black Sheep,
Groovy Waters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mandrill,
The Busters,
Electric Prunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Human League,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soft Machine,
F. McDonald,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.