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 Fiji and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the dance 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultra Naté,
Pharoah Sanders,
Niagra,
Don Cherry,
Mad Mike,
Livin' Joy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Al Stewart,
Albert Ayler,
The Remains,
the Bar-Kays,
The United States of America,
The Smoke,
Rufus Thomas,
Franke,
Roy Ayers,
Scratch Acid,
Popol Vuh,
Davy DMX,
Fatback Band,
Audionom,
Q65,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barrington Levy,
Bush Tetras,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pulsallama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Traffic Nightmare,
Altered Images,
Grey Daturas,
The Modern Lovers,
Deakin,
New Age Steppers,
Blossom Toes,
Buzzcocks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Duran Duran,
Lee Hazlewood,
Panda Bear,
Arab on Radar,
Scientists,
Faust,
Rapeman,
the Normal,
Ronnie Foster,
the Association,
Moebius,
The Litter,
Nik Kershaw,
Warren Ellis,
Gong,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mr. Review,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare,
The Trojans,
Tubeway Army,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.