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 Australia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the punk 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
DNA,
Lungfish,
The Fugs,
Rites of Spring,
James White and The Blacks,
Brass Construction,
Crash Course in Science,
Al Stewart,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ludus,
Eve St. Jones,
Radio Birdman,
The Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cowsills,
Yazoo,
Hoover,
Laurel Aitken,
Parry Music,
Amon Düül II,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
E-Dancer,
The Durutti Column,
CMW,
The Slackers,
Pole,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantaleimon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Slave,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Smiths,
Wolf Eyes,
B.T. Express,
Derrick Morgan,
Dual Sessions,
Ultra Naté,
Second Layer,
Essential Logic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jawbox,
The Leaves,
In Retrospect,
Nik Kershaw,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neu!,
Tommy Roe,
Clear Light,
Heaven 17,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
Icehouse,
H. Thieme,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.