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 St Lucia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Alison Limerick 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
John Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
Desert Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Names,
48th St. Collective,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Gladiators,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fire Engines,
the Association,
Severed Heads,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sam Rivers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scott Walker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Green,
Fad Gadget,
Amazonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pantaleimon,
The Smiths,
Roxy Music,
New York Dolls,
Marine Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
The J.B.'s,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry's Kids,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Real Kids,
Nico,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Graham Central Station,
Make Up,
Boredoms,
The Cramps,
Warsaw,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kas Product,
The Music Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
Index,
Funky Four + One,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sound Behaviour,
Main Source,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.