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 Ireland and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Suicide to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Dave Gahan,
Buzzcocks,
Youth Brigade,
Monolake,
Bluetip,
Yusef Lateef,
Rapeman,
UT,
Michelle Simonal,
Monks,
The Seeds,
The Human League,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Warren Ellis,
The Litter,
The Cowsills,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Porter Ricks,
T. Rex,
Stereo Dub,
Tom Boy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Infiniti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Letta Mbulu,
One Last Wish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Black Dice,
Circle Jerks,
Oneida,
Reuben Wilson,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Clear Light,
The Fugs,
Fear,
FM Einheit,
the Normal,
Josef K,
Tubeway Army,
David McCallum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Wire,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barry Ungar,
Shoche,
Magazine,
The Techniques,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fat Boys,
Scion,
Section 25,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed,
Sandy B,
Albert Ayler,
Qualms,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.