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 Eritrea and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the crunk 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Swell Maps,
Kerri Chandler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
OOIOO,
Carl Craig,
Bad Manners,
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
Desert Stars,
The Seeds,
Unwound,
Sex Pistols,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Das Ding,
Marc Almond,
Sister Nancy,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
B.T. Express,
Roger Hodgson,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Excepter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dirtbombs,
Michelle Simonal,
Rapeman,
Albert Ayler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arab on Radar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wolf Eyes,
Tres Demented,
Altered Images,
The Searchers,
Marmalade,
Cybotron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ornette Coleman,
John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sexual Harrassment,
Organ,
Siglo XX,
Kayak,
Thompson Twins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cluster,
AZ,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cowsills,
Spandau Ballet,
The Birthday Party,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ice-T,
48th St. Collective,
Tubeway Army,
Oneida,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.