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 Australia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the jazz 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Television Personalities,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Newcleus,
Sight & Sound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cal Tjader,
Scan 7,
Agitation Free,
The Slits,
Dual Sessions,
Little Man,
Scrapy,
Blossom Toes,
the Swans,
Tommy Roe,
The Divine Comedy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marvin Gaye,
Pantytec,
Jacob Miller,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
Matthew Bourne,
Negative Approach,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric Copeland,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Martian,
Intrusion,
Wasted Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Man Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Masters at Work,
The Fall,
Gong,
Accadde A,
Magazine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
DJ Style,
Monolake,
Model 500,
Royal Trux,
Angry Samoans,
Quantec,
the Bar-Kays,
Warren Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
Ice-T,
Parry Music,
Radio Birdman,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.