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 Bangladesh 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rites of Spring to the punk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cowsills,
The Evens,
Dark Day,
The Star Department,
Cymande,
Moss Icon,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fall,
The Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Sarah Menescal,
The Martian,
Con Funk Shun,
Minor Threat,
Delta 5,
The Selecter,
Colin Newman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
B.T. Express,
Bang On A Can,
Shoche,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Freddie Wadling,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June of 44,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Görl,
Frankie Knuckles,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Starr,
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
The Red Krayola,
The Moody Blues,
Lyres,
Patti Smith,
Black Flag,
H. Thieme,
Gang Gang Dance,
Royal Trux,
Godley & Creme,
Scion,
Spoonie Gee,
Tubeway Army,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minutemen,
The Buckinghams,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
Juan Atkins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Bananas,
Reuben Wilson,
Morten Harket,
Maleditus Sound,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.