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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Main Source to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Silicon Teens,
Rotary Connection,
Don Cherry,
Nick Fraelich,
The Pretty Things,
Das Ding,
Nico,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Mills,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Reed,
The Buckinghams,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Patti Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camouflage,
Minny Pops,
U.S. Maple,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Technova,
Adolescents,
Rekid,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June Days,
Jerry's Kids,
Bauhaus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub,
Suburban Knight,
EPMD,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Smog,
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox,
Cal Tjader,
Pole,
Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New York Dolls,
Black Flag,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hashim,
The Durutti Column,
Ken Boothe,
The Trojans,
T.S.O.L.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.