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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The Star Department,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Music Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Wolf Eyes,
Nas,
F. McDonald,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Buckinghams,
The Moleskins,
John Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
Scratch Acid,
Arab on Radar,
The Trojans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter and Kerry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Judy Mowatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Don Cherry,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slits,
ABBA,
The Human League,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wings,
Circle Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kas Product,
Rosa Yemen,
The Cure,
Cheater Slicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soft Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Panda Bear,
The Black Dice,
the Swans,
Davy DMX,
Pantaleimon,
X-101,
Idris Muhammad,
Livin' Joy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Graham Central Station,
Steve Hackett,
Pantytec,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-Ray Spex,
Tom Boy,
Easy Going,
The Busters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
H. Thieme,
Youth Brigade,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.