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 Papua New Guinea and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Bush Tetras to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Tears for Fears,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cybotron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fatback Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Janne Schatter,
Morten Harket,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantaleimon,
The Electric Prunes,
Grauzone,
The Alarm Clocks,
B.T. Express,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Görl,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Glenn Branca,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Holt,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fortunes,
Soft Cell,
The Cowsills,
Ultravox,
Q and Not U,
Spoonie Gee,
Faraquet,
Newcleus,
Eve St. Jones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David Axelrod,
Rakim,
Dual Sessions,
L. Decosne,
Don Cherry,
Rapeman,
Ponytail,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Zapp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Altered Images,
The Litter,
Wally Richardson,
Siglo XX,
Donald Byrd,
Cluster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pole,
Bobby Womack,
The Evens,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Harmonia,
Anakelly,
Eddi Front,
The Techniques,
Eden Ahbez,
Dennis Brown,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.