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 Luxembourg and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Monochrome Set to the electroclash 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
Quando Quango,
Brass Construction,
Niagra,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Kinks,
Ponytail,
John Lydon,
One Last Wish,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers,
Organ,
the Human League,
Carl Craig,
Derrick May,
The Cramps,
Icehouse,
Wasted Youth,
Surgeon,
Bob Dylan,
Connie Case,
Soft Cell,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra,
FM Einheit,
Severed Heads,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New Order,
Eric Dolphy,
Tres Demented,
D'Angelo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Procol Harum,
Black Pus,
Half Japanese,
The Dirtbombs,
the Sonics,
Moss Icon,
Joensuu 1685,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Juan Atkins,
Mandrill,
The Selecter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
June of 44,
Buzzcocks,
Gichy Dan,
Lungfish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Au Pairs,
Quantec,
Robert Hood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mark Hollis,
Judy Mowatt,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.