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 France and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Black Dice to the grime 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Nico,
PIL,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tubeway Army,
Brothers Johnson,
Aswad,
Monks,
Lakeside,
Blossom Toes,
Rod Modell,
Whodini,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Janne Schatter,
Graham Central Station,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crooked Eye,
Magazine,
H. Thieme,
The Cowsills,
Aural Exciters,
Fluxion,
Ituana,
Pagans,
Jacques Brel,
The Selecter,
Masters at Work,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eurythmics,
KRS-One,
Joensuu 1685,
Skaos,
Wally Richardson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gap Band,
Scion,
EPMD,
Trumans Water,
Cheater Slicks,
kango's stein massive,
The Cramps,
Glenn Branca,
Clear Light,
Ralphi Rosario,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Buzzcocks,
Chrome,
Smog,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dennis Brown,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Görl,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
Mission of Burma,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.