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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 8 Eyed Spy to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Echospace,
Pulsallama,
Mary Jane Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Skaos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Reagan Youth,
Mandrill,
DJ Style,
Aaron Thompson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Little Man,
The Busters,
Alton Ellis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eli Mardock,
The Fugs,
Animal Collective,
Minnie Riperton,
the Swans,
Liliput,
Duran Duran,
Fad Gadget,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
H. Thieme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Lydon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Age Steppers,
Moss Icon,
Warsaw,
Colin Newman,
Grey Daturas,
Oneida,
Tubeway Army,
Young Marble Giants,
Janne Schatter,
Danielle Patucci,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camberwell Now,
T. Rex,
The Moleskins,
Chris Corsano,
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ornette Coleman,
Rakim,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Connie Case,
The Angels of Light,
Dave Gahan,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.