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 Antigua and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator 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 Terrestrial Tones to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Public Image Ltd.,
LL Cool J,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joey Negro,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sex Pistols,
The Pretty Things,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantaleimon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
Monks,
John Foxx,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Pus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Zapp,
Erykah Badu,
The Moleskins,
Peter and Kerry,
Unwound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grey Daturas,
John Coltrane,
The Vogues,
Amazonics,
Smog,
Radiohead,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxette,
Soft Cell,
Make Up,
The Dead C,
Japan,
The Residents,
The Wake,
These Immortal Souls,
Wasted Youth,
The Cowsills,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minutemen,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wolf Eyes,
Bill Near,
Josef K,
The Divine Comedy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pagans,
Brick,
Cluster,
The Happenings,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Clarke,
Yusef Lateef,
Audionom,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.