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 Cameroon and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Malaria!,
Alton Ellis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Half Japanese,
Spandau Ballet,
Boz Scaggs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Michelle Simonal,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Smog,
The Durutti Column,
R.M.O.,
Aural Exciters,
Maleditus Sound,
ABC,
K-Klass,
Gastr Del Sol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bluetip,
Mr. Review,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Move,
The Divine Comedy,
Eli Mardock,
Pagans,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
The Moleskins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Bourne,
Newcleus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Swans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marmalade,
U.S. Maple,
The Gun Club,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Connie Case,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sixth Finger,
The Fugs,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Prunes,
Pole,
Kas Product,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Jawbox,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.