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 Sudan and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Jeff Mills to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Nick Fraelich,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Boz Scaggs,
The Beau Brummels,
Lower 48,
Rapeman,
Groovy Waters,
Angry Samoans,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats,
Basic Channel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flipper,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terry Callier,
DJ Style,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Pretty Things,
Gichy Dan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drexciya,
B.T. Express,
Theoretical Girls,
Animal Collective,
R.M.O.,
Scott Walker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
Los Fastidios,
Adolescents,
The Standells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Subhumans,
World's Most,
48th St. Collective,
kango's stein massive,
The Durutti Column,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Second Layer,
Minutemen,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pere Ubu,
Infiniti,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stereo Dub,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aaron Thompson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Searchers,
The United States of America,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Sonics,
Carl Craig,
The Moleskins,
The Slits,
Von Mondo,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nas,
The Human League,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.