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 Afghanistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Quando Quango to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Surgeon,
June of 44,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
Roxy Music,
Bluetip,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shoche,
The Victims,
Franke,
Gerry Rafferty,
UT,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now,
Subhumans,
The Fire Engines,
Rekid,
Lyres,
The Selecter,
Kenny Larkin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marmalade,
Danielle Patucci,
Von Mondo,
Sun Ra,
Freddie Wadling,
OOIOO,
Intrusion,
Pussy Galore,
The Trojans,
The Grass Roots,
Ronan,
Porter Ricks,
Pantytec,
Essential Logic,
Flash Fearless,
Albert Ayler,
Cluster,
Malaria!,
Eyeless In Gaza,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Oneida,
The Gun Club,
June Days,
Matthew Halsall,
Blake Baxter,
The Associates,
Alice Coltrane,
New Order,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Skatalites,
Jeff Lynne,
The Walker Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.