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 Maldives and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ralphi Rosario to the jazz 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Wally Richardson,
Dark Day,
Index,
Can,
Y Pants,
Loose Ends,
The Black Dice,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Joe Finger,
The Fall,
The Index,
Eric Copeland,
Radiohead,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Simply Red,
Heaven 17,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Wells,
Patti Smith,
Lower 48,
The Misunderstood,
Scientists,
Unrelated Segments,
Sällskapet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy Collins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lyres,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deepchord,
Minor Threat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Con Funk Shun,
Nils Olav,
Roxy Music,
The Toasters,
the Normal,
Suicide,
Terry Callier,
Qualms,
Eddi Front,
Joensuu 1685,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
ABC,
10cc,
Mars,
Don Cherry,
Tom Boy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Slick Rick,
John Lydon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.