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 Brunei and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Chrome to the techno 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
The Litter,
Ronnie Foster,
the Soft Cell,
Janne Schatter,
Rites of Spring,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
Black Flag,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Vogues,
Black Moon,
X-102,
Soul II Soul,
Fluxion,
Stereo Dub,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare,
Blancmange,
Trumans Water,
X-Ray Spex,
CMW,
Unwound,
Altered Images,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang of Four,
Hoover,
The Slackers,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Banda Bassotti,
Grauzone,
Michelle Simonal,
Au Pairs,
Qualms,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Fraelich,
Sex Pistols,
Skaos,
Minnie Riperton,
The Leaves,
Ten City,
June of 44,
UT,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reagan Youth,
Aural Exciters,
Blake Baxter,
The Monochrome Set,
Boz Scaggs,
Rakim,
John Cale,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Holt,
Sällskapet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minor Threat,
The Index,
The Fall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.