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 Angola and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Amazonics to the electroclash 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Pantytec,
The Busters,
Kenny Larkin,
R.M.O.,
the Normal,
Duran Duran,
Shoche,
Lower 48,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
F. McDonald,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
10cc,
The Mummies,
Deakin,
Unrelated Segments,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ken Boothe,
Roxy Music,
Ossler,
Gong,
Joy Division,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cluster,
Maleditus Sound,
Thompson Twins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Subhumans,
FM Einheit,
The Modern Lovers,
AZ,
The Cowsills,
Grauzone,
The Searchers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soul Sonic Force,
In Retrospect,
D'Angelo,
Laurel Aitken,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Interpol,
World's Most,
Lightning Bolt,
Warren Ellis,
Roxette,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Q65,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Christie,
Mark Hollis,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dirtbombs,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sonics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.