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 Micronesia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Barrington Levy to the funk 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Busters,
The Seeds,
Lower 48,
Amazonics,
John Coltrane,
New York Dolls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blancmange,
Connie Case,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Invisible,
Sarah Menescal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Green,
Marc Almond,
David Bowie,
The Golliwogs,
the Normal,
a-ha,
Minnie Riperton,
Parry Music,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pantytec,
Kenny Larkin,
Roxette,
The United States of America,
Saccharine Trust,
Maurizio,
Livin' Joy,
Zapp,
Aswad,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Infiniti,
the Association,
Fela Kuti,
Jandek,
The Gories,
ABC,
Minor Threat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Moody Blues,
Youth Brigade,
The Kinks,
Suicide,
Derrick May,
The Saints,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Crime,
Mary Jane Girls,
F. McDonald,
Anthony Braxton,
Pantaleimon,
Ten City,
Black Moon,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.