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 Bhutan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Jacques Brel to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls 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?
Freddie Wadling,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suicide,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jacques Brel,
Silicon Teens,
Unrelated Segments,
Mr. Review,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pere Ubu,
Bob Dylan,
The Walker Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brand Nubian,
Niagra,
David Axelrod,
Hashim,
Black Moon,
Dual Sessions,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Visage,
Porter Ricks,
The Count Five,
The Tremeloes,
Crash Course in Science,
Unwound,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roxy Music,
The Martian,
Bronski Beat,
Brass Construction,
Gang Green,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Music Machine,
Quadrant,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Residents,
Lindisfarne,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Letta Mbulu,
The Happenings,
Alison Limerick,
Rakim,
Joyce Sims,
Rufus Thomas,
Supertramp,
The New Christs,
Neil Young,
Cal Tjader,
Cheater Slicks,
Ice-T,
A Certain Ratio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Funky Four + One,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.