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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultravox to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama 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?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kerri Chandler,
K-Klass,
Television Personalities,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arcadia,
DJ Style,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brothers Johnson,
Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cybotron,
OOIOO,
Urselle,
Alice Coltrane,
E-Dancer,
H. Thieme,
Gang Green,
Eden Ahbez,
The Doors,
Con Funk Shun,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mummies,
Jandek,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pere Ubu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal,
Franke,
Audionom,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Henry Cow,
X-101,
Cluster,
cv313,
Flash Fearless,
Tim Buckley,
The Cowsills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fall,
Q and Not U,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Standells,
Tommy Roe,
Metal Thangz,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nick Fraelich,
Aswad,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeff Mills,
Qualms,
The Techniques,
the Human League,
Stetsasonic,
The Young Rascals,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.