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 Haiti and from New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Minny Pops to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rekid,
E-Dancer,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oneida,
Neu!,
Animal Collective,
Aloha Tigers,
Todd Terry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Susan Cadogan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Wyatt,
Silicon Teens,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Accadde A,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Matthew Bourne,
Crooked Eye,
Newcleus,
Gong,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-102,
Robert Hood,
cv313,
Harpers Bizarre,
Desert Stars,
Brick,
Jacques Brel,
Kurtis Blow,
Siglo XX,
Little Man,
The Wake,
Alison Limerick,
MC5,
Isaac Hayes,
Sällskapet,
Faust,
Unwound,
The Searchers,
Radio Birdman,
The Remains,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soft Cell,
Charles Mingus,
Mr. Review,
Rites of Spring,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Young Marble Giants,
a-ha,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül II,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.