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 Kuwait and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 48th St. Collective to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
the Normal,
Babytalk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
LL Cool J,
The Fall,
Black Pus,
Colin Newman,
The Buckinghams,
Eric Dolphy,
Byron Stingily,
Chrome,
Junior Murvin,
EPMD,
Kerri Chandler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brick,
Moby Grape,
Eden Ahbez,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Move,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
AZ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cymande,
Intrusion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Television Personalities,
Cameo,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Almond,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fortunes,
Monolake,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fugs,
Yellowson,
the Soft Cell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blossom Toes,
Skaos,
Ornette Coleman,
Half Japanese,
The Blackbyrds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pulsallama,
Pagans,
Arab on Radar,
Nico,
Visage,
Deakin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
Country Teasers,
Sandy B,
Newcleus,
Darondo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Circle Jerks,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.