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 Suriname and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum 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 Black Pus to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s 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 Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pere Ubu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rapeman,
Black Sheep,
Blossom Toes,
Minor Threat,
Cameo,
Joey Negro,
Joensuu 1685,
MDC,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Real Kids,
Ludus,
Byron Stingily,
Drexciya,
Toni Rubio,
The Five Americans,
Reagan Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soft Machine,
Arab on Radar,
The Tremeloes,
Spoonie Gee,
These Immortal Souls,
Interpol,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Animal Collective,
Bill Wells,
In Retrospect,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
E-Dancer,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Prince Buster,
Ponytail,
Radio Birdman,
Moss Icon,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Chris Corsano,
Unrelated Segments,
The Associates,
Alison Limerick,
Inner City,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fat Boys,
The Toasters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yaz,
Judy Mowatt,
the Swans,
The Happenings,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cal Tjader,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.