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 Dominica and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb 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 The Velvet Underground to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
T.S.O.L.,
Arcadia,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Outsiders,
Josef K,
La Düsseldorf,
Hot Snakes,
Nils Olav,
The Smiths,
Laurel Aitken,
The Skatalites,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
Oblivians,
Carl Craig,
Altered Images,
Roy Ayers,
Joe Smooth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Sheep,
Deadbeat,
Subhumans,
Fatback Band,
Newcleus,
H. Thieme,
Tommy Roe,
The Cure,
Sound Behaviour,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Gang Dance,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mad Mike,
The Invisible,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang Green,
Pantytec,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Iggy Pop,
Barbara Tucker,
Al Stewart,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Derrick Morgan,
Scratch Acid,
The Kinks,
Unwound,
Rakim,
Amazonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stiv Bators,
Graham Central Station,
Pagans,
The Remains,
Moebius,
Organ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Television,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.