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 Senegal and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Vladislav Delay to the crunk 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
LL Cool J,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Colin Newman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suburban Knight,
Marine Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The United States of America,
X-Ray Spex,
The Techniques,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cure,
Spandau Ballet,
Sun City Girls,
Wire,
Letta Mbulu,
Brand Nubian,
The Wake,
Laurel Aitken,
Prince Buster,
Dave Gahan,
Derrick May,
The Stooges,
Pantaleimon,
Sonic Youth,
The Zeros,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
OOIOO,
The Golliwogs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
48th St. Collective,
Shoche,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ken Boothe,
Y Pants,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Motorama,
Roger Hodgson,
Cybotron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Saccharine Trust,
Joey Negro,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q65,
Byron Stingily,
Johnny Clarke,
Dark Day,
The Searchers,
Soft Cell,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
La Düsseldorf,
Peter and Kerry,
Moss Icon,
Chris Corsano,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Throbbing Gristle,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.