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 Kenya and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Black Pus to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
David Axelrod,
The Knickerbockers,
Anakelly,
Sandy B,
Hashim,
Q65,
Deakin,
John Cale,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Matthew Bourne,
Swell Maps,
Neu!,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Byrd,
Wasted Youth,
The Residents,
Q and Not U,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sexual Harrassment,
Second Layer,
Johnny Clarke,
Essential Logic,
Heaven 17,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott Heron,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Arthur Verocai,
Anthony Braxton,
Radio Birdman,
Alphaville,
Tom Boy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yazoo,
DJ Style,
The Moleskins,
Mo-Dettes,
Pylon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tomorrow,
John Foxx,
B.T. Express,
Archie Shepp,
James White and The Blacks,
F. McDonald,
The Red Krayola,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Animal Collective,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Copeland,
Boogie Down Productions,
Idris Muhammad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Soft Cell,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.