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 Nauru and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 an oboe and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Bang On A Can,
Nas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
June Days,
Eddi Front,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
Wally Richardson,
Leonard Cohen,
Echospace,
Bill Near,
Terry Callier,
K-Klass,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rhythm & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Alphaville,
The Busters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
the Swans,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liliput,
The Move,
Minnie Riperton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
Warren Ellis,
Television,
Parry Music,
Symarip,
Janne Schatter,
Hashim,
U.S. Maple,
Davy DMX,
Zapp,
Lungfish,
MC5,
The Associates,
The Fortunes,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minny Pops,
Brothers Johnson,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scan 7,
The Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Todd Rundgren,
The Pretty Things,
Todd Terry,
Danielle Patucci,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
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.