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 Philippines and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kenny Larkin to the grime 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Intrusion,
Adolescents,
Pulsallama,
The Birthday Party,
Unrelated Segments,
Khruangbin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Todd Rundgren,
Rekid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Suburban Knight,
Livin' Joy,
Slave,
Bobby Sherman,
The Selecter,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gap Band,
Nirvana,
Eden Ahbez,
New Order,
Black Pus,
Public Enemy,
Man Parrish,
Scott Walker,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
China Crisis,
Jacob Miller,
Kayak,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Misunderstood,
the Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Animal Collective,
Ossler,
Bootsy Collins,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang of Four,
the Normal,
Letta Mbulu,
The Searchers,
Metal Thangz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bauhaus,
Henry Cow,
The United States of America,
Marc Almond,
Fatback Band,
Jandek,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Mills,
Panda Bear,
Jacques Brel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lucky Dragons,
Y Pants,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.