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 New Zealand and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unwound,
F. McDonald,
Lower 48,
Main Source,
Ronan,
The Gories,
Newcleus,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dave Gahan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roxy Music,
UT,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kaleidoscope,
Aural Exciters,
The Wake,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
Alice Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faust,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
Vainqueur,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scientists,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Starr,
Derrick Morgan,
Connie Case,
Ornette Coleman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
Howard Jones,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aaron Thompson,
James White and The Blacks,
Fatback Band,
The Evens,
Patti Smith,
PIL,
Young Marble Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Bauhaus,
Duran Duran,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
Subhumans,
Motorama,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.