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 Saudi Arabia and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Man Eating Sloth to the grunge 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
PIL,
Bobby Womack,
The Buckinghams,
The Count Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
Sight & Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Parry Music,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Hill,
Banda Bassotti,
The Martian,
Loose Ends,
The Mojo Men,
Colin Newman,
Metal Thangz,
Crime,
Kenny Larkin,
Mandrill,
The Leaves,
New York Dolls,
Moby Grape,
Sam Rivers,
Brass Construction,
Lungfish,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Toasters,
Shoche,
Silicon Teens,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun City Girls,
10cc,
Quando Quango,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alice Coltrane,
Motorama,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
Pere Ubu,
Marvin Gaye,
T. Rex,
Heaven 17,
Flash Fearless,
The Busters,
The Fugs,
ABBA,
Second Layer,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Coltrane,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Moon,
Bronski Beat,
Unwound,
Robert Görl,
Zero Boys,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.