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 San Marino and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Big Daddy Kane to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Martian,
Infiniti,
Smog,
Heaven 17,
the Germs,
Schoolly D,
Blancmange,
Ronan,
Kerri Chandler,
Alice Coltrane,
Eden Ahbez,
Cecil Taylor,
FM Einheit,
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
Fat Boys,
Magma,
The Kinks,
Isaac Hayes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gun Club,
The Associates,
Godley & Creme,
Fugazi,
Graham Central Station,
Minutemen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Index,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Hood,
Metal Thangz,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Leonard Cohen,
The Names,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Reuben Wilson,
Audionom,
The Red Krayola,
Boredoms,
Qualms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Country Teasers,
Slave,
Popol Vuh,
Animal Collective,
John Holt,
The Last Poets,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fluxion,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.