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 Russia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Vogues to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
The Fortunes,
The Fugs,
Gang Green,
Dead Boys,
The Wake,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
Intrusion,
Fluxion,
John Holt,
Reuben Wilson,
The Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Hill,
X-Ray Spex,
Brass Construction,
Eddi Front,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Invisible,
Gabor Szabo,
Icehouse,
The Knickerbockers,
Youth Brigade,
Slick Rick,
Clear Light,
The Standells,
The Associates,
DJ Sneak,
Angry Samoans,
Von Mondo,
Mantronix,
OOIOO,
Vainqueur,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hoover,
Shoche,
Jacob Miller,
Alton Ellis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
These Immortal Souls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dave Gahan,
Anthony Braxton,
kango's stein massive,
JFA,
Reagan Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
The United States of America,
Deadbeat,
X-101,
Los Fastidios,
Eric B and Rakim,
David McCallum,
Mo-Dettes,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.