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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Smoke to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Associates,
cv313,
Bobby Womack,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
China Crisis,
Cluster,
Todd Rundgren,
Los Fastidios,
Rotary Connection,
Jawbox,
Urselle,
Kerri Chandler,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
FM Einheit,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Pus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lindisfarne,
Soul II Soul,
Colin Newman,
Nik Kershaw,
Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Surgeon,
Joe Finger,
the Normal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Reuben Wilson,
These Immortal Souls,
Agent Orange,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
the Slits,
Yazoo,
Goldenarms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Halsall,
DNA,
the Human League,
Lower 48,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sugar Minott,
Sex Pistols,
Judy Mowatt,
John Foxx,
Sparks,
Hasil Adkins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Girls At Our Best!,
Young Marble Giants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Isaac Hayes,
Skriet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.