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 Panama and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Silicon Teens to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
Soft Machine,
Pulsallama,
Gang Green,
Livin' Joy,
Gabor Szabo,
The Black Dice,
Ossler,
Eve St. Jones,
David McCallum,
Mr. Review,
Spoonie Gee,
Mark Hollis,
Dual Sessions,
Aural Exciters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Heaven 17,
LL Cool J,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Half Japanese,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Don Cherry,
Donny Hathaway,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skaos,
The Blackbyrds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Monolake,
Lou Reed,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
MC5,
Unrelated Segments,
Joy Division,
Suburban Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Laurel Aitken,
the Germs,
Rapeman,
Erykah Badu,
Sun City Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Nirvana,
Absolute Body Control,
E-Dancer,
Freddie Wadling,
Cymande,
CMW,
Patti Smith,
Echospace,
Eric Dolphy,
Grey Daturas,
The Pretty Things,
The Tremeloes,
Model 500,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.