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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Second Layer,
Malaria!,
Amon Düül II,
Harry Pussy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Moleskins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delta 5,
Susan Cadogan,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
Crash Course in Science,
Model 500,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Black Sheep,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fire Engines,
Angry Samoans,
Aloha Tigers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood,
Fear,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare,
Soul II Soul,
Japan,
Ludus,
Quando Quango,
The Saints,
The Divine Comedy,
The Blackbyrds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stetsasonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Anakelly,
Rosa Yemen,
Josef K,
The Blues Magoos,
Faust,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Warsaw,
Clear Light,
T. Rex,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stereo Dub,
Lightning Bolt,
Boredoms,
Radio Birdman,
Marine Girls,
DJ Style,
Reagan Youth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.