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 Kiribati and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Heaven 17,
Reuben Wilson,
Fad Gadget,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eden Ahbez,
Television,
The Tremeloes,
Can,
Lalann,
June of 44,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nik Kershaw,
Mr. Review,
Sugar Minott,
Junior Murvin,
Joyce Sims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
JFA,
Tom Boy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
UT,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suburban Knight,
Interpol,
Gabor Szabo,
Lakeside,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Red Krayola,
Angry Samoans,
The Victims,
Byron Stingily,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smoke,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bluetip,
The Move,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barbara Tucker,
LL Cool J,
Newcleus,
The Gories,
Malaria!,
Kaleidoscope,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul II Soul,
Erasure,
Ultra Naté,
Joe Smooth,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
The Searchers,
The Gap Band,
The Misunderstood,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.