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 Rwanda and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Crooked Eye to the grunge 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Jeff Mills,
Al Stewart,
Maurizio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Laurel Aitken,
Heaven 17,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eden Ahbez,
Desert Stars,
Wire,
Jacob Miller,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultra Naté,
Alphaville,
Cal Tjader,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
Gichy Dan,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Rundgren,
Charles Mingus,
Ice-T,
Johnny Clarke,
A Certain Ratio,
Amazonics,
Soft Machine,
Drexciya,
Derrick May,
The Grass Roots,
Sugar Minott,
Young Marble Giants,
Surgeon,
Stetsasonic,
Maleditus Sound,
Scan 7,
Quando Quango,
Harmonia,
Isaac Hayes,
Panda Bear,
Yaz,
Byron Stingily,
Aloha Tigers,
Visage,
The Knickerbockers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tommy Roe,
The Fuzztones,
Barrington Levy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Remains,
Iggy Pop,
Technova,
OOIOO,
Althea and Donna,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Black Dice,
Henry Cow,
Nirvana,
The Vogues,
Lou Reed,
The Gladiators,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.