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 Guyana and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Susan Cadogan 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bill Wells,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lyres,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
Toni Rubio,
Tim Buckley,
Peter and Kerry,
Monolake,
Alphaville,
June Days,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Das Ding,
Fat Boys,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
These Immortal Souls,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Invisible,
Eddi Front,
Robert Wyatt,
Bad Manners,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
The Pretty Things,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Slits,
John Cale,
The Birthday Party,
Hasil Adkins,
Reuben Wilson,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Flash Fearless,
Amazonics,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fluxion,
Minnie Riperton,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül II,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ludus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.