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 Jordan and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 E-Dancer to the disco 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Rites of Spring,
Sun City Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mars,
The Gap Band,
The Names,
Reagan Youth,
Surgeon,
Terry Callier,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
Young Marble Giants,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gun Club,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Todd Terry,
The Invisible,
Gang of Four,
Infiniti,
Tim Buckley,
the Swans,
The Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
Michelle Simonal,
Davy DMX,
Dual Sessions,
Don Cherry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Los Fastidios,
Panda Bear,
Babytalk,
Crooked Eye,
Morten Harket,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cramps,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Skarface,
Icehouse,
Cecil Taylor,
Brass Construction,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Birthday Party,
Radiohead,
Grey Daturas,
Black Moon,
Brand Nubian,
Josef K,
Second Layer,
Soulsonic Force,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tommy Roe,
The Searchers,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.