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 Macedonia and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crash Course in Science to the disco 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The J.B.'s,
Black Bananas,
Albert Ayler,
Gong,
Organ,
Carl Craig,
Lindisfarne,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Trumans Water,
Scott Walker,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mo-Dettes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Juan Atkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
Sixth Finger,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Model 500,
Monks,
Cymande,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brothers Johnson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The United States of America,
Sparks,
Warsaw,
Black Flag,
Dead Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Lou Christie,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alison Limerick,
Graham Central Station,
Minny Pops,
Niagra,
T.S.O.L.,
Yusef Lateef,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Television,
The Smoke,
Thompson Twins,
Patti Smith,
Brand Nubian,
Los Fastidios,
Eurythmics,
Ituana,
The Fortunes,
Rod Modell,
Y Pants,
Nik Kershaw,
Deadbeat,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Wyatt,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.