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 Germany and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sandy B to the grime 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Monks,
Altered Images,
Carl Craig,
Alice Coltrane,
The United States of America,
Jawbox,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Little Man,
Faraquet,
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
Lungfish,
Ronnie Foster,
Ten City,
The Techniques,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monochrome Set,
Duran Duran,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terry Callier,
Gang Green,
The Electric Prunes,
Radiohead,
Albert Ayler,
The Cramps,
Fatback Band,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dirtbombs,
Shuggie Otis,
The Seeds,
Mission of Burma,
Infiniti,
Desert Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joyce Sims,
Fat Boys,
Hot Snakes,
The Motions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Boz Scaggs,
Das Ding,
Underground Resistance,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lucky Dragons,
Agent Orange,
Susan Cadogan,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
R.M.O.,
Flipper,
Television Personalities,
Deadbeat,
Kurtis Blow,
the Human League,
The Moleskins,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.