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 Mauritania and from Bremen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Slits to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David Axelrod,
Chrome,
Magazine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Sheep,
The Last Poets,
Q65,
DJ Sneak,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Bar-Kays,
Cecil Taylor,
Q and Not U,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The United States of America,
Porter Ricks,
Can,
June Days,
the Human League,
Franke,
Reuben Wilson,
Rosa Yemen,
Matthew Halsall,
Amazonics,
Peter and Kerry,
Jacques Brel,
Arcadia,
Darondo,
Henry Cow,
Neu!,
Duran Duran,
The Pop Group,
Bronski Beat,
Smog,
Altered Images,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
FM Einheit,
Scratch Acid,
Ossler,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ponytail,
The Searchers,
The Evens,
Lalann,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Josef K,
Sexual Harrassment,
Section 25,
The Toasters,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Terry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Television,
Audionom,
DJ Style,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.