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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Traffic Nightmare to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Tim Buckley,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fire Engines,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Selecter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Das Ding,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-Ray Spex,
Jandek,
Altered Images,
UT,
Silicon Teens,
The Shadows of Knight,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Man Parrish,
Country Teasers,
Radiohead,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
Maurizio,
Rekid,
Scrapy,
Byron Stingily,
Lalo Schifrin,
Animal Collective,
The Happenings,
The Mojo Men,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fat Boys,
Slick Rick,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
Cluster,
Sällskapet,
Iggy Pop,
Sight & Sound,
Chrome,
Quando Quango,
10cc,
The Real Kids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deepchord,
Bill Near,
The Gun Club,
Tears for Fears,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marine Girls,
Joe Finger,
Terrestrial Tones,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Minny Pops,
Gichy Dan,
The Music Machine,
Cymande,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pole,
The American Breed,
The Seeds,
Matthew Halsall,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.