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 Rwanda and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Bill Wells,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultra Naté,
JFA,
Glenn Branca,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Animal Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Hill,
Lungfish,
The Index,
Royal Trux,
the Swans,
The Last Poets,
Eddi Front,
The Tremeloes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Mummies,
Crooked Eye,
Faraquet,
The Victims,
The Knickerbockers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pussy Galore,
Organ,
The Dave Clark Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Litter,
The Doors,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boredoms,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Magazine,
X-Ray Spex,
Stereo Dub,
Wasted Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric Dolphy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hoover,
L. Decosne,
E-Dancer,
Todd Terry,
Nas,
Schoolly D,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sight & Sound,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.