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 Kazakhstan and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
JFA,
Moebius,
Bauhaus,
June Days,
Terry Callier,
Judy Mowatt,
Y Pants,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Youth Brigade,
Angry Samoans,
Massinfluence,
Scrapy,
Delta 5,
Symarip,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aloha Tigers,
Mission of Burma,
Scientists,
Gang Gang Dance,
Royal Trux,
the Germs,
B.T. Express,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Talk Talk,
Public Enemy,
Deakin,
Roxette,
the Swans,
Negative Approach,
Bad Manners,
Lower 48,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Knickerbockers,
D'Angelo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fugazi,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minutemen,
Dark Day,
Donny Hathaway,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Doors,
Interpol,
Tommy Roe,
The Skatalites,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harry Pussy,
Laurel Aitken,
Kenny Larkin,
48th St. Collective,
OOIOO,
DJ Style,
Amon Düül II,
Danielle Patucci,
Eli Mardock,
Joy Division,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.