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 Monaco and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pantytec to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Loose Ends,
The Barracudas,
Gang of Four,
In Retrospect,
Shoche,
Neil Young,
L. Decosne,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magma,
The Happenings,
Fat Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun City Girls,
The Standells,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
Slave,
The Moleskins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Buckinghams,
Josef K,
The Doors,
Kurtis Blow,
Marmalade,
DNA,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Khruangbin,
Parry Music,
Depeche Mode,
Davy DMX,
The Walker Brothers,
the Normal,
The Sonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Zapp,
Bush Tetras,
Joe Smooth,
Von Mondo,
Talk Talk,
Das Ding,
Hoover,
Ultra Naté,
Amazonics,
E-Dancer,
Robert Hood,
Howard Jones,
Hashim,
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
Easy Going,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terry Callier,
Lou Christie,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lindisfarne,
Slick Rick,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Womack,
The Names,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.