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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Saints to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Prince Buster,
Graham Central Station,
E-Dancer,
Zapp,
Surgeon,
Cheater Slicks,
Joey Negro,
The Fire Engines,
Section 25,
B.T. Express,
the Fania All-Stars,
Von Mondo,
Dennis Brown,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stetsasonic,
Maurizio,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sun Ra,
Model 500,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agitation Free,
The Modern Lovers,
Howard Jones,
Slick Rick,
Sarah Menescal,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Birthday Party,
Michelle Simonal,
the Germs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Stooges,
Massinfluence,
Guru Guru,
Hardrive,
Jacob Miller,
Black Flag,
Niagra,
Archie Shepp,
Absolute Body Control,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker,
Quando Quango,
Rapeman,
Scrapy,
Charles Mingus,
Little Man,
Don Cherry,
Kayak,
Peter & Gordon,
Khruangbin,
Main Source,
John Foxx,
Soft Machine,
Y Pants,
Sällskapet,
Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Underground Resistance,
Kenny Larkin,
Eurythmics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.