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 Bangladesh and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
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 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Anthony Braxton to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eurythmics,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Style,
Sun Ra,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kenny Larkin,
The Pretty Things,
Davy DMX,
the Slits,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
The Toasters,
CMW,
Moby Grape,
Kerri Chandler,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Piero Umiliani,
David Axelrod,
Judy Mowatt,
The Modern Lovers,
The Litter,
The Residents,
Quando Quango,
Skarface,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aloha Tigers,
Quantec,
Banda Bassotti,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
EPMD,
UT,
Au Pairs,
Technova,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Bar-Kays,
Charles Mingus,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Royal Trux,
Janne Schatter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Half Japanese,
A Certain Ratio,
Lebanon Hanover,
10cc,
Grey Daturas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Popol Vuh,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.