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 Dominica and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Youth Brigade to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
the Slits,
Babytalk,
Country Teasers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Chris & Cosey,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grandmaster Flash,
KRS-One,
The Zeros,
Bobby Byrd,
Slick Rick,
Warsaw,
Arab on Radar,
Prince Buster,
Gong,
10cc,
The Beau Brummels,
Kool Moe Dee,
Reuben Wilson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Porter Ricks,
Fluxion,
Tomorrow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vainqueur,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
The Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Litter,
Erasure,
The Barracudas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dave Gahan,
Sällskapet,
Slave,
Amon Düül II,
John Cale,
Camouflage,
Kerri Chandler,
Dennis Brown,
Stiv Bators,
Archie Shepp,
Little Man,
Icehouse,
June of 44,
Ultravox,
Alice Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Henry Cow,
Loose Ends,
The Selecter,
The Monochrome Set,
Traffic Nightmare,
This Heat,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.