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 United States and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Malaria! to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Oneida,
Country Teasers,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
Television Personalities,
B.T. Express,
Mark Hollis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Lydon,
The Fire Engines,
Scientists,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Germs,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Evens,
Eve St. Jones,
the Bar-Kays,
Camberwell Now,
John Cale,
UT,
Wolf Eyes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Max Romeo,
Animal Collective,
Bill Near,
X-102,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dark Day,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
Flash Fearless,
Royal Trux,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ken Boothe,
Cameo,
Black Sheep,
Bobbi Humphrey,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roy Ayers,
The Vogues,
Jerry's Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Delta 5,
Rekid,
The Smoke,
Robert Wyatt,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Smooth,
Bluetip,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
These Immortal Souls,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.