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 Somalia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grime 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Gong,
B.T. Express,
Fad Gadget,
Colin Newman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
Qualms,
Brass Construction,
Matthew Halsall,
Johnny Clarke,
Alice Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Fraelich,
Procol Harum,
Groovy Waters,
New Order,
Spandau Ballet,
Bluetip,
Robert Wyatt,
Nas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kayak,
the Sonics,
Sun City Girls,
Hardrive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stiv Bators,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Raincoats,
the Soft Cell,
Toni Rubio,
Swell Maps,
Minny Pops,
Fatback Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Sister Nancy,
Wings,
Youth Brigade,
The Durutti Column,
Skarface,
The Litter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vladislav Delay,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
Tommy Roe,
The Mojo Men,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joe Finger,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Sheep,
The Blackbyrds,
The Techniques,
Gregory Isaacs,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.