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 Bulgaria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Alison Limerick to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Nik Kershaw,
Circle Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Donny Hathaway,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sun City Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ornette Coleman,
the Sonics,
Anthony Braxton,
Marvin Gaye,
Wasted Youth,
Siglo XX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Moleskins,
Angry Samoans,
Fad Gadget,
Bill Near,
Motorama,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers,
Black Pus,
Joey Negro,
Albert Ayler,
Public Enemy,
The Pop Group,
Kurtis Blow,
The Zeros,
Easy Going,
UT,
The Gap Band,
Altered Images,
Nation of Ulysses,
Liliput,
Stetsasonic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Royal Trux,
Half Japanese,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Buckinghams,
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Selecter,
Chris Corsano,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
Section 25,
The Standells,
Mark Hollis,
The Evens,
Eli Mardock,
Underground Resistance,
The Names,
Crispy Ambulance,
Monolake,
The Trojans,
Tomorrow,
Arcadia,
Bobby Womack,
Lower 48,
Talk Talk,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.