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 Vanuatu and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Eli Mardock to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Zero Boys,
Mars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lungfish,
Pierre Henry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echospace,
Porter Ricks,
D'Angelo,
Gang of Four,
Fela Kuti,
Michelle Simonal,
F. McDonald,
Scan 7,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Toni Rubio,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Sonics,
Jandek,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-101,
The Dave Clark Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Dead Boys,
Cybotron,
Underground Resistance,
Glenn Branca,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Don Cherry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scientists,
Todd Terry,
Judy Mowatt,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Lydon,
The Remains,
Niagra,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Leaves,
Kurtis Blow,
Desert Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Chrome,
Joe Finger,
The Grass Roots,
Radiohead,
The United States of America,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ronan,
Mo-Dettes,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brick,
Q65,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.