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 Bhutan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Bad Manners,
R.M.O.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Erykah Badu,
The Moody Blues,
The Gladiators,
The Doobie Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Japan,
Fatback Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pylon,
Fluxion,
Max Romeo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
The Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
Gabor Szabo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brick,
Jimmy McGriff,
Khruangbin,
Peter & Gordon,
ABC,
Fela Kuti,
Quando Quango,
Unwound,
Leonard Cohen,
Bob Dylan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crime,
Lou Christie,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days,
Brass Construction,
Massinfluence,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mo-Dettes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Dead C,
Sugar Minott,
Crooked Eye,
Moebius,
Tubeway Army,
Barrington Levy,
Skaos,
Faraquet,
The Happenings,
Tommy Roe,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Görl,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Real Kids,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.