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 Afghanistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 Ralphi Rosario to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
The Black Dice,
The Last Poets,
Robert Wyatt,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Evens,
Ten City,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Moody Blues,
Nik Kershaw,
Joey Negro,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
Danielle Patucci,
Alice Coltrane,
Nas,
The Sonics,
Agitation Free,
Swans,
8 Eyed Spy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Main Source,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Junior Murvin,
The Trojans,
Fugazi,
10cc,
Smog,
The Alarm Clocks,
China Crisis,
Reagan Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
The Wake,
Pussy Galore,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aaron Thompson,
David Axelrod,
Tommy Roe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neu!,
Stiv Bators,
Tim Buckley,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Human League,
Subhumans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pere Ubu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Arthur Verocai,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
AZ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Saints,
Joensuu 1685,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.