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 Tonga and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sixth Finger to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Seeds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Association,
Chrome,
Flash Fearless,
Radio Birdman,
Country Teasers,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Move,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yellowson,
The Leaves,
Deepchord,
Black Bananas,
Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
Heaven 17,
Porter Ricks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Yaz,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronan,
Lyres,
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DNA,
Nirvana,
the Swans,
Bobby Womack,
Agitation Free,
the Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
The Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
Juan Atkins,
Khruangbin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ronnie Foster,
Wolf Eyes,
Pierre Henry,
Brick,
Fear,
Derrick Morgan,
Index,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
Main Source,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June Days,
The Wake,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Selecter,
Bob Dylan,
Barbara Tucker,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.