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 Armenia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alice Coltrane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Man Parrish,
The Mummies,
Alton Ellis,
Cymande,
Whodini,
Amon Düül II,
Henry Cow,
Angry Samoans,
UT,
The Motions,
Moebius,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marcia Griffiths,
Warren Ellis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Eating Sloth,
H. Thieme,
Fugazi,
Pole,
Black Moon,
Zapp,
Popol Vuh,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed,
Ken Boothe,
Pierre Henry,
Amon Düül,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mr. Review,
The Gladiators,
Wasted Youth,
Tim Buckley,
The Gap Band,
Avey Tare,
Ten City,
David Axelrod,
Stetsasonic,
The Searchers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deepchord,
Cheater Slicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scott Walker,
Lower 48,
Anakelly,
Mo-Dettes,
Aswad,
Silicon Teens,
Matthew Halsall,
Brass Construction,
Eurythmics,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Christie,
The Fugs,
Letta Mbulu,
Camberwell Now,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Royal Trux,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.