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 Sweden and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Holger Czukay 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Faust,
Mars,
D'Angelo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Sonics,
Aswad,
Symarip,
The Fire Engines,
Lee Hazlewood,
Can,
In Retrospect,
X-Ray Spex,
Neu!,
Avey Tare,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mark Hollis,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Doors,
Hoover,
Erasure,
Derrick May,
The Tremeloes,
Parry Music,
John Holt,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deakin,
The Gap Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols,
Anthony Braxton,
Warsaw,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maleditus Sound,
David Axelrod,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stiv Bators,
Iggy Pop,
The Gladiators,
The Sonics,
Laurel Aitken,
Charles Mingus,
Mad Mike,
The Red Krayola,
Lightning Bolt,
Hot Snakes,
The Moody Blues,
The Dead C,
Barbara Tucker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Christie,
Man Parrish,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.