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 Malta and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Minor Threat to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Don Cherry,
Man Parrish,
The Fall,
Cal Tjader,
Sonic Youth,
The Victims,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The United States of America,
The Grass Roots,
Vainqueur,
10cc,
Curtis Mayfield,
Althea and Donna,
Thee Headcoats,
Nas,
One Last Wish,
Silicon Teens,
the Soft Cell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oneida,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mars,
PIL,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hoover,
ABC,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers,
Zapp,
Drive Like Jehu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick Morgan,
Japan,
Graham Central Station,
E-Dancer,
Fluxion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Essential Logic,
The Dead C,
Pagans,
48th St. Collective,
Slick Rick,
Franke,
The Cramps,
Excepter,
The Moody Blues,
Soulsonic Force,
Yellowson,
Roger Hodgson,
Cameo,
Bad Manners,
Eden Ahbez,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
Eddi Front,
Anthony Braxton,
Cluster,
Blake Baxter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.