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 Panama and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bobby Womack to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Charles Mingus,
Hashim,
Minnie Riperton,
F. McDonald,
Warren Ellis,
Flipper,
Joyce Sims,
The Five Americans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dual Sessions,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Last Poets,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mission of Burma,
Roxy Music,
Funky Four + One,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
The Moody Blues,
Sällskapet,
Jerry's Kids,
New York Dolls,
Animal Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Audionom,
Roxette,
Nils Olav,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warsaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television,
The Zeros,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gong,
Albert Ayler,
Laurel Aitken,
The Leaves,
Cal Tjader,
Judy Mowatt,
The Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Franke,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fire Engines,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
T.S.O.L.,
The Smoke,
Clear Light,
Boredoms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Velvet Underground,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.