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 Israel and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
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 clarinet 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 Country Teasers to the grime 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Sam Rivers,
LL Cool J,
The Doors,
Marc Almond,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bob Dylan,
Outsiders,
Darondo,
Skriet,
X-102,
Aaron Thompson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Qualms,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Black Dice,
John Coltrane,
Camouflage,
Janne Schatter,
10cc,
Quando Quango,
Barbara Tucker,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MC5,
Laurel Aitken,
Pussy Galore,
Unwound,
Scrapy,
Deepchord,
Gichy Dan,
Ronnie Foster,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joy Division,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tres Demented,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers,
Colin Newman,
Mo-Dettes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Prunes,
Pole,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fugs,
The Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Terry Callier,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.