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 Mexico and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Animal Collective to the grime 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Camberwell Now,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Wyatt,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gun Club,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Juan Atkins,
Terry Callier,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wire,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pylon,
the Swans,
Faust,
Sister Nancy,
Sex Pistols,
The Happenings,
Little Man,
The Moody Blues,
Agent Orange,
The Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bang On A Can,
Black Pus,
the Normal,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rekid,
China Crisis,
Stiv Bators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Easy Going,
Arcadia,
Flipper,
Joensuu 1685,
Skaos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scan 7,
Brothers Johnson,
Tears for Fears,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rod Modell,
Jimmy McGriff,
UT,
The Angels of Light,
Aural Exciters,
Colin Newman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Desert Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
FM Einheit,
Soul Sonic Force,
David Axelrod,
Rufus Thomas,
Slick Rick,
Slave,
Joy Division,
Sarah Menescal,
Q and Not U,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oneida,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.