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 Singapore and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mad Mike to the rap 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Marshall Jefferson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oneida,
Faraquet,
Arthur Verocai,
Das Ding,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rites of Spring,
The Litter,
Urselle,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Görl,
the Swans,
The Doors,
Joensuu 1685,
Smog,
Lou Christie,
Sandy B,
Talk Talk,
Tres Demented,
the Sonics,
The Vogues,
Hot Snakes,
Radiohead,
X-Ray Spex,
Stereo Dub,
Toni Rubio,
Yellowson,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca,
The Trojans,
Babytalk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Electric Prunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Green,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tom Boy,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pussy Galore,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Supertramp,
Schoolly D,
MC5,
The Saints,
The New Christs,
Camberwell Now,
Radio Birdman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun City Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
Deepchord,
Bill Wells,
The Stooges,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.