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 Zimbabwe and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Alice Coltrane to the grunge 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
Ohio Players,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lakeside,
La Düsseldorf,
Darondo,
Tears for Fears,
Ossler,
Quando Quango,
Excepter,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Rundgren,
John Foxx,
Peter & Gordon,
Pole,
Niagra,
Pylon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
a-ha,
the Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neil Young,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare,
Dave Gahan,
Shoche,
John Cale,
The United States of America,
Fat Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
Oblivians,
Derrick Morgan,
Nils Olav,
Bronski Beat,
The Dirtbombs,
Byron Stingily,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlback,
David Axelrod,
Fad Gadget,
X-Ray Spex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cure,
In Retrospect,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Motions,
Angry Samoans,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Pretty Things,
Q65,
DJ Sneak,
Loose Ends,
Crime,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.