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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Mantronix to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Carl Craig,
Loose Ends,
Siglo XX,
These Immortal Souls,
Index,
Jawbox,
Charles Mingus,
John Cale,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barbara Tucker,
John Foxx,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Real Kids,
Scott Walker,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
Slick Rick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Hood,
Section 25,
Circle Jerks,
The Names,
Gerry Rafferty,
Arcadia,
Make Up,
The Music Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Marine Girls,
Qualms,
Kaleidoscope,
Jandek,
Sight & Sound,
Excepter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camberwell Now,
Rosa Yemen,
Stereo Dub,
Whodini,
the Normal,
Amon Düül II,
Terry Callier,
The Skatalites,
The Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
the Slits,
Eric Copeland,
Skriet,
Cecil Taylor,
The Martian,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pantytec,
Patti Smith,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.