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 Australia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the techno 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Malaria!,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yusef Lateef,
Reagan Youth,
The Standells,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aural Exciters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rakim,
The Happenings,
Popol Vuh,
Brick,
Arcadia,
Shoche,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hardrive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Newcleus,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Minor Threat,
X-Ray Spex,
Flamin' Groovies,
Procol Harum,
Pierre Henry,
Niagra,
Rufus Thomas,
Kenny Larkin,
Circle Jerks,
Bauhaus,
Joe Finger,
Susan Cadogan,
The New Christs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sam Rivers,
Von Mondo,
Underground Resistance,
Parry Music,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
Soul II Soul,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Visage,
Das Ding,
Camberwell Now,
Pylon,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
Babytalk,
Spandau Ballet,
Howard Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
La Düsseldorf,
Electric Prunes,
Animal Collective,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.