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 Morocco and from Bremen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Tommy Roe,
Barrington Levy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fatback Band,
Niagra,
Pussy Galore,
Bang On A Can,
Lungfish,
EPMD,
Al Stewart,
Mars,
Rufus Thomas,
Technova,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül II,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Gichy Dan,
Henry Cow,
Motorama,
Mo-Dettes,
Alphaville,
The Invisible,
The Evens,
Soul II Soul,
Organ,
Yellowson,
Von Mondo,
Connie Case,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
Eddi Front,
Nirvana,
Camouflage,
The Golliwogs,
Wasted Youth,
Donny Hathaway,
Terry Callier,
The Fortunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Surgeon,
Bob Dylan,
June of 44,
Eric Dolphy,
Wire,
R.M.O.,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gun Club,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare,
Scion,
Arcadia,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mummies,
Soft Cell,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Neon Judgement,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.