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 Uganda and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eve St. Jones to the crunk 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
kango's stein massive,
Sun City Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wire,
Stiv Bators,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
The Trojans,
Bobby Womack,
Stetsasonic,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
Adolescents,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The J.B.'s,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Can,
Slick Rick,
DJ Style,
Television Personalities,
Ten City,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Livin' Joy,
Brass Construction,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
Average White Band,
John Cale,
Thee Headcoats,
Dawn Penn,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sugar Minott,
Make Up,
Alphaville,
the Normal,
Leonard Cohen,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Blues Magoos,
Wings,
Iggy Pop,
K-Klass,
The Move,
Index,
Jandek,
Nils Olav,
Ken Boothe,
Jacques Brel,
The Skatalites,
Trumans Water,
Au Pairs,
B.T. Express,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Invisible,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.