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 Guinea-Bissau and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 Patti Smith to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rosa Yemen,
Average White Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Malaria!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ten City,
Drexciya,
Marine Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Grass Roots,
Eddi Front,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Last Poets,
David Bowie,
Wings,
Howard Jones,
Ludus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reagan Youth,
The Neon Judgement,
The Evens,
Blancmange,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric Copeland,
The Smoke,
Robert Hood,
Radiohead,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang of Four,
Newcleus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fall,
Hardrive,
Dave Gahan,
Joy Division,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hot Snakes,
Zero Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Neil Young,
The Human League,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Offenders,
Youth Brigade,
Sun City Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Visage,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mojo Men,
The Standells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.