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 Belarus and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Whodini,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joe Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Symarip,
Iggy Pop,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stiv Bators,
Absolute Body Control,
Eve St. Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Franke,
Michelle Simonal,
Sister Nancy,
Lightning Bolt,
Bill Wells,
Dave Gahan,
JFA,
Laurel Aitken,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Derrick Morgan,
Matthew Bourne,
Scientists,
Marmalade,
The Monks,
Sarah Menescal,
Ohio Players,
Audionom,
John Coltrane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sugar Minott,
Eli Mardock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joey Negro,
One Last Wish,
Jeff Mills,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Hood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Shoche,
Television Personalities,
New York Dolls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ludus,
F. McDonald,
Angry Samoans,
Chrome,
Index,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mo-Dettes,
The Move,
Fear,
Peter & Gordon,
Magma,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.