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 Lebanon and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Quando Quango to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
The Associates,
Connie Case,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
Unwound,
Angry Samoans,
Supertramp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Franke,
Fugazi,
Reagan Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris & Cosey,
Prince Buster,
Faraquet,
Icehouse,
Brand Nubian,
Hardrive,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Warsaw,
Stetsasonic,
Intrusion,
Barbara Tucker,
DJ Style,
Nation of Ulysses,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smiths,
Depeche Mode,
Adolescents,
The Remains,
Soul II Soul,
Moby Grape,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Association,
Ituana,
Pierre Henry,
Kas Product,
Danielle Patucci,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Suburban Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Moon,
The Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Flipper,
Black Bananas,
Infiniti,
Juan Atkins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.