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 San Marino and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gong to the jazz 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Names,
Man Parrish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Spoonie Gee,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Sherman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
EPMD,
Con Funk Shun,
Magma,
Clear Light,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Roxette,
Idris Muhammad,
Bauhaus,
Grauzone,
Cecil Taylor,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
CMW,
Masters at Work,
Cymande,
Howard Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Essential Logic,
D'Angelo,
the Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Barracudas,
Lou Christie,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cluster,
Pulsallama,
Cybotron,
Sight & Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
X-Ray Spex,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gories,
The Moleskins,
OOIOO,
Surgeon,
Rakim,
Black Moon,
Althea and Donna,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alphaville,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June Days,
The Count Five,
Kas Product,
Vladislav Delay,
Thee Headcoats,
Yellowson,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.