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 Denmark and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the dance 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Lakeside,
Niagra,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slick Rick,
a-ha,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bang On A Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Newcleus,
The Raincoats,
Sam Rivers,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed,
Radiohead,
Wally Richardson,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marmalade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brothers Johnson,
Stereo Dub,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Warsaw,
cv313,
Amazonics,
Panda Bear,
Stockholm Monsters,
Trumans Water,
The Blues Magoos,
Hot Snakes,
Ten City,
The Pop Group,
Dual Sessions,
Ultra Naté,
Faust,
The Knickerbockers,
The Kinks,
JFA,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Crash Course in Science,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Toasters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ludus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Womack,
U.S. Maple,
Iggy Pop,
Eurythmics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Basic Channel,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.