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 Ivory Coast and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Parrish to the techno 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kurtis Blow,
Marvin Gaye,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Index,
Television Personalities,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lalo Schifrin,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crime,
David Bowie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Charles Mingus,
Thee Headcoats,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nico,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
X-Ray Spex,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wally Richardson,
Alton Ellis,
Chris & Cosey,
Procol Harum,
the Association,
Sarah Menescal,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Sound,
The Wake,
Second Layer,
Brick,
Yazoo,
Y Pants,
Eurythmics,
Leonard Cohen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mummies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Aloha Tigers,
Banda Bassotti,
John Cale,
Malaria!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Hood,
Pagans,
Sister Nancy,
U.S. Maple,
The Vogues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Agent Orange,
Sandy B,
Roger Hodgson,
Traffic Nightmare,
DJ Sneak,
Arab on Radar,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.