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 Bolivia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 David Bowie 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 Sister Nancy 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
The Mojo Men,
U.S. Maple,
Rufus Thomas,
Siglo XX,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Techniques,
Fela Kuti,
Model 500,
R.M.O.,
Scratch Acid,
Audionom,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Order,
The Music Machine,
Ponytail,
Mr. Review,
Quadrant,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dead Boys,
Royal Trux,
Groovy Waters,
The Slackers,
Michelle Simonal,
Shoche,
Prince Buster,
H. Thieme,
the Fania All-Stars,
New York Dolls,
DJ Sneak,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
X-102,
Mantronix,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Alison Limerick,
The Dirtbombs,
Sällskapet,
48th St. Collective,
Malaria!,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Womack,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Archie Shepp,
Sun Ra,
Excepter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pulsallama,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
PIL,
Surgeon,
The Star Department,
Ohio Players,
The Blues Magoos,
Sight & Sound,
Aural Exciters,
Can,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiohead,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.