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 Djibouti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marc Almond to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
LL Cool J,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sister Nancy,
Delta 5,
Radio Birdman,
The Sonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Reed,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Animal Collective,
Blake Baxter,
Rekid,
Zero Boys,
The Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Black Dice,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker,
ABC,
Morten Harket,
Brass Construction,
Fugazi,
Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cure,
The Dead C,
The Walker Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Junior Murvin,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
The Fall,
Leonard Cohen,
Aswad,
The Names,
Black Pus,
the Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fatback Band,
Infiniti,
Joe Smooth,
The Tremeloes,
Oblivians,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.