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 Zambia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the rap 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Sandy B,
Stetsasonic,
Interpol,
Bill Near,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lalann,
The Count Five,
The Saints,
Don Cherry,
Eric Copeland,
Ken Boothe,
The Litter,
Rites of Spring,
The Residents,
Matthew Halsall,
Minor Threat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grauzone,
Gastr Del Sol,
Connie Case,
Curtis Mayfield,
The New Christs,
Accadde A,
Wally Richardson,
This Heat,
Marvin Gaye,
Royal Trux,
Sonic Youth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
Sound Behaviour,
The J.B.'s,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeff Lynne,
The Young Rascals,
X-Ray Spex,
Drexciya,
Gang Starr,
The Cramps,
Gong,
Colin Newman,
Fugazi,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bauhaus,
OOIOO,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Max Romeo,
Y Pants,
Maurizio,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fire Engines,
The Remains,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.