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 Poland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Remains,
The Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Adolescents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Black Dice,
Jeru the Damaja,
Average White Band,
Brass Construction,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
The United States of America,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Audionom,
New York Dolls,
AZ,
JFA,
Theoretical Girls,
Nas,
Josef K,
Yaz,
Stereo Dub,
Reuben Wilson,
June of 44,
Shuggie Otis,
Dorothy Ashby,
James White and The Blacks,
Marmalade,
The Kinks,
Donald Byrd,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Music Machine,
Youth Brigade,
Echospace,
the Normal,
Basic Channel,
The Techniques,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pulsallama,
The Gap Band,
Joy Division,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Hood,
Sugar Minott,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Sister Nancy,
CMW,
Jawbox,
The Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Soft Machine,
Camberwell Now,
Deakin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.