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 Iraq and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bad Manners to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Liliput,
Khruangbin,
Pantytec,
Panda Bear,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Techniques,
The Raincoats,
Nils Olav,
Rekid,
Spandau Ballet,
Skarface,
Reuben Wilson,
The Five Americans,
Chris Corsano,
The Seeds,
Lucky Dragons,
Donny Hathaway,
The J.B.'s,
Visage,
John Foxx,
Cameo,
Archie Shepp,
Organ,
Big Daddy Kane,
L. Decosne,
Loose Ends,
The Victims,
Al Stewart,
Oneida,
The Stooges,
Robert Wyatt,
The Last Poets,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slave,
The Birthday Party,
The Vogues,
The Skatalites,
Nico,
Hoover,
Andrew Hill,
Sällskapet,
Crash Course in Science,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Monks,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Blackbyrds,
Lower 48,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
La Düsseldorf,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.