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 Philippines and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Move 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Sugar Minott,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Raincoats,
Siglo XX,
PIL,
Jandek,
Popol Vuh,
The Happenings,
Janne Schatter,
Letta Mbulu,
the Germs,
Section 25,
Drive Like Jehu,
H. Thieme,
The Misunderstood,
Shoche,
Sun Ra,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
UT,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hashim,
Black Moon,
Soul II Soul,
Basic Channel,
Radio Birdman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deepchord,
Pantaleimon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Johnny Clarke,
Pussy Galore,
Maleditus Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Seeds,
June Days,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Reuben Wilson,
Mad Mike,
Junior Murvin,
Eden Ahbez,
Neu!,
The Litter,
Ohio Players,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
New York Dolls,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare,
The Toasters,
Skaos,
Minny Pops,
Barbara Tucker,
The Golliwogs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.