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 China and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Visage to the dance 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Unrelated Segments,
The Red Krayola,
Donald Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hasil Adkins,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slits,
Qualms,
John Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
Letta Mbulu,
Wire,
Rosa Yemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
Theoretical Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Jeff Mills,
Aswad,
X-101,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gregory Isaacs,
Royal Trux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Tremeloes,
David Axelrod,
Little Man,
The Durutti Column,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang of Four,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tears for Fears,
Bauhaus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Symarip,
Wasted Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Style,
Henry Cow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DNA,
Howard Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grauzone,
Soft Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Angry Samoans,
Underground Resistance,
Model 500,
Sound Behaviour,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.