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 Bangladesh and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the 808 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Sound Behaviour,
MDC,
The Gap Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Slave,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Rundgren,
Glenn Branca,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Mark Hollis,
DNA,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barbara Tucker,
Talk Talk,
Nirvana,
Connie Case,
Maleditus Sound,
The Music Machine,
L. Decosne,
Gang Green,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry's Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Tremeloes,
Spandau Ballet,
Barry Ungar,
X-Ray Spex,
Suburban Knight,
Sight & Sound,
Crime,
Television,
Ronnie Foster,
Cameo,
The Vogues,
Unrelated Segments,
Freddie Wadling,
Easy Going,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joensuu 1685,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yellowson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
E-Dancer,
Minutemen,
Bobby Womack,
Sparks,
The J.B.'s,
Desert Stars,
The Wake,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
The Monochrome Set,
EPMD,
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Hill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nico,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.