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 Andorra and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 David McCallum to the grime 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Terry Callier,
Tim Buckley,
Dennis Brown,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Stooges,
Scratch Acid,
Stetsasonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash,
June of 44,
The Birthday Party,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
CMW,
Tommy Roe,
Saccharine Trust,
Franke,
Siglo XX,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Style,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxy Music,
Sällskapet,
Infiniti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
Procol Harum,
Scientists,
Pantytec,
Grauzone,
Royal Trux,
Eddi Front,
Das Ding,
K-Klass,
The Detroit Cobras,
X-Ray Spex,
Deakin,
The Music Machine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Victims,
Icehouse,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blancmange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Vogues,
The Sound,
Minny Pops,
Pole,
Pagans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Osbourne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Faraquet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bad Manners,
Camouflage,
Minor Threat,
The Angels of Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.