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 Papua New Guinea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Connie Case to the electroclash 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Simply Red,
Deakin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
B.T. Express,
MDC,
Bill Near,
Bluetip,
Shoche,
Second Layer,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nation of Ulysses,
China Crisis,
Rekid,
Bootsy Collins,
Crash Course in Science,
Brick,
DNA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiohead,
John Cale,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Section 25,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
a-ha,
Inner City,
The Velvet Underground,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Idris Muhammad,
Accadde A,
Interpol,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kool Moe Dee,
Altered Images,
Ultravox,
Kayak,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dual Sessions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Mr. Review,
the Swans,
Buzzcocks,
Black Pus,
Basic Channel,
Underground Resistance,
10cc,
EPMD,
Camberwell Now,
Motorama,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Hill,
Black Moon,
Steve Hackett,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.