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 Liberia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Toni Rubio,
In Retrospect,
Letta Mbulu,
The Searchers,
Average White Band,
OOIOO,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scrapy,
John Cale,
The Barracudas,
The Walker Brothers,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Ponytail,
The Leaves,
Icehouse,
Severed Heads,
Sun City Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pussy Galore,
Thee Headcoats,
Excepter,
Sandy B,
The New Christs,
T. Rex,
Dawn Penn,
Barrington Levy,
Gang of Four,
The Neon Judgement,
Sam Rivers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ornette Coleman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fela Kuti,
Can,
F. McDonald,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dirtbombs,
Royal Trux,
The Angels of Light,
The Busters,
Grey Daturas,
Isaac Hayes,
The Associates,
The Remains,
Technova,
Cluster,
Pere Ubu,
Warren Ellis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bill Near,
Johnny Clarke,
Section 25,
Anakelly,
The Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Bob Dylan,
The Count Five,
Mad Mike,
Ituana,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.