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 New Zealand and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultra Naté to the funk 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
John Cale,
The Move,
The Golliwogs,
Youth Brigade,
Newcleus,
Rites of Spring,
Minor Threat,
Jawbox,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smiths,
David Axelrod,
Vainqueur,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Babytalk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yusef Lateef,
Godley & Creme,
The Moody Blues,
Albert Ayler,
The Walker Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
Drexciya,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Rosa Yemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Star Department,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Index,
Royal Trux,
Black Bananas,
Oneida,
Section 25,
Technova,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Slave,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soulsonic Force,
DJ Style,
The Invisible,
Spoonie Gee,
The Standells,
Dark Day,
Eli Mardock,
Bluetip,
The Five Americans,
AZ,
In Retrospect,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
The Smoke,
Alison Limerick,
Cheater Slicks,
Franke,
Delta 5,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Detroit Cobras,
Blancmange,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.