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 Hungary and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Pantaleimon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Mark Hollis,
Nas,
The Names,
Prince Buster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James White and The Blacks,
The Tremeloes,
The Golliwogs,
The Last Poets,
Television Personalities,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
Boredoms,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Donald Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
Carl Craig,
kango's stein massive,
Lalo Schifrin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Green,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Arcadia,
China Crisis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monks,
Monolake,
This Heat,
Yellowson,
Max Romeo,
The Dirtbombs,
Parry Music,
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
Visage,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Radiohead,
PIL,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gichy Dan,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Underground Resistance,
Robert Görl,
Jesper Dahlback,
Man Eating Sloth,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
Warsaw,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
X-Ray Spex,
Josef K,
Main Source,
Jeff Mills,
Camouflage,
Nirvana,
Alison Limerick,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.