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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bootsy Collins to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
UT,
Roxette,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Camouflage,
Jandek,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Almond,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
Mr. Review,
Iggy Pop,
Liliput,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Darondo,
X-101,
Ten City,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dave Gahan,
Rekid,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anthony Braxton,
Alphaville,
Reagan Youth,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
Reuben Wilson,
Al Stewart,
Sister Nancy,
Section 25,
Skaos,
The Vogues,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Black Dice,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Moebius,
Circle Jerks,
The Busters,
Sarah Menescal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Make Up,
Jacob Miller,
Sonny Sharrock,
Unrelated Segments,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pylon,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
Symarip,
The Modern Lovers,
The Tremeloes,
Arcadia,
Harry Pussy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scientists,
The Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.