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 Moldova and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mark Hollis 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Niagra,
Nik Kershaw,
Joe Smooth,
Rekid,
Average White Band,
In Retrospect,
Livin' Joy,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
The Real Kids,
Khruangbin,
Donny Hathaway,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Flipper,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
Idris Muhammad,
Faraquet,
Lindisfarne,
B.T. Express,
Clear Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fugs,
Hot Snakes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
Mark Hollis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
The Wake,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed,
Intrusion,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
Sarah Menescal,
Basic Channel,
Eric Copeland,
The Human League,
Junior Murvin,
Mary Jane Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Underground Resistance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blossom Toes,
Loose Ends,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Chris & Cosey,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harmonia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Steve Hackett,
Fela Kuti,
Brass Construction,
Stockholm Monsters,
New York Dolls,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.