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 Guatemala and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Michael McDonald 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 Pole to the rap 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Toni Rubio,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deakin,
KRS-One,
Sam Rivers,
DJ Style,
B.T. Express,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus,
Das Ding,
Lucky Dragons,
Aural Exciters,
Country Teasers,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dark Day,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Martian,
Kool Moe Dee,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gap Band,
Sandy B,
The Barracudas,
Brand Nubian,
Underground Resistance,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris & Cosey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Bananas,
the Germs,
The Seeds,
Pulsallama,
H. Thieme,
Dennis Brown,
The Raincoats,
Black Flag,
Ice-T,
The Birthday Party,
China Crisis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Sonic Youth,
The Moleskins,
In Retrospect,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sound,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sällskapet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
Harry Pussy,
Technova,
The American Breed,
New Age Steppers,
Marine Girls,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.