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 Albania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grunge 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brick,
Boredoms,
Interpol,
Donny Hathaway,
Popol Vuh,
The Modern Lovers,
Accadde A,
Robert Wyatt,
Bush Tetras,
John Coltrane,
Pierre Henry,
Lebanon Hanover,
AZ,
Charles Mingus,
Carl Craig,
ABC,
Junior Murvin,
The Star Department,
The Dirtbombs,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Byron Stingily,
Kas Product,
Andrew Hill,
Minor Threat,
KRS-One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quantec,
The Happenings,
48th St. Collective,
The Mojo Men,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Arcadia,
B.T. Express,
X-102,
Joensuu 1685,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
K-Klass,
The Vogues,
The Gladiators,
Sound Behaviour,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Starr,
Moebius,
Nik Kershaw,
Simply Red,
The Martian,
Slick Rick,
China Crisis,
Marc Almond,
Franke,
Lucky Dragons,
X-101,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stiv Bators,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.