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 Monaco and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rosa Yemen to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a 808 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Hood,
The Moleskins,
Tres Demented,
Deadbeat,
Tears for Fears,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
Marmalade,
Minutemen,
Mission of Burma,
OOIOO,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Heaven 17,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
UT,
Hasil Adkins,
Cluster,
Television Personalities,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Invisible,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Q65,
Marc Almond,
Lee Hazlewood,
PIL,
Suicide,
the Swans,
Rosa Yemen,
Oblivians,
Tim Buckley,
New Order,
Grey Daturas,
The Raincoats,
Procol Harum,
Little Man,
LL Cool J,
Arthur Verocai,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Womack,
Brass Construction,
MC5,
This Heat,
Essential Logic,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cal Tjader,
Maurizio,
Reuben Wilson,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.