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 Denmark and from Mumbai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Cal Tjader to the funk 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Intrusion,
Skriet,
Stereo Dub,
The Victims,
Television Personalities,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bang On A Can,
Rekid,
the Association,
Sugar Minott,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
This Heat,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pantytec,
Slave,
the Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flipper,
Bauhaus,
The Selecter,
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Tom Boy,
Derrick Morgan,
The Black Dice,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Sherman,
Schoolly D,
Public Enemy,
Minor Threat,
Eric Copeland,
Accadde A,
Arthur Verocai,
Talk Talk,
Rod Modell,
Urselle,
Gong,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
Altered Images,
Black Bananas,
Unwound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
F. McDonald,
Alice Coltrane,
DJ Sneak,
Kenny Larkin,
The Monks,
Sister Nancy,
David Axelrod,
Minutemen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Seeds,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.