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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eve St. Jones to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultra Naté,
Liliput,
The Black Dice,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fuzztones,
Public Enemy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Anakelly,
Alison Limerick,
Desert Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
The Index,
the Germs,
Byron Stingily,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Depeche Mode,
Radiohead,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantytec,
The Skatalites,
June Days,
Drexciya,
The Kinks,
Skarface,
Adolescents,
Carl Craig,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
Barbara Tucker,
Cheater Slicks,
Deadbeat,
The Invisible,
Stockholm Monsters,
Newcleus,
Arthur Verocai,
The Electric Prunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kas Product,
Theoretical Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
Jacob Miller,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blues Magoos,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smoke,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monks,
Ponytail,
Reagan Youth,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.