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 Belarus and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the funk 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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Skriet,
Juan Atkins,
Thee Headcoats,
Index,
The Busters,
Gang Starr,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sam Rivers,
The American Breed,
Siglo XX,
The Sonics,
New Order,
The Monochrome Set,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Surgeon,
Los Fastidios,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vainqueur,
Rotary Connection,
Section 25,
Ornette Coleman,
Ronan,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slits,
The Barracudas,
Reuben Wilson,
48th St. Collective,
Basic Channel,
The Tremeloes,
Rosa Yemen,
The Golliwogs,
The Mojo Men,
Jandek,
the Swans,
Eden Ahbez,
Delta 5,
Yusef Lateef,
Yaz,
the Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Sheep,
The Misunderstood,
Brothers Johnson,
Joensuu 1685,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Moon,
Ultravox,
The Searchers,
Bang On A Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Infiniti,
Second Layer,
PIL,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.