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 South Sudan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Q65 to the disco 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Almond,
Jacques Brel,
Yazoo,
OOIOO,
The Star Department,
New York Dolls,
Swans,
Pantytec,
F. McDonald,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Chrome,
Lalann,
Royal Trux,
Wally Richardson,
Niagra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
Barry Ungar,
Blake Baxter,
Aswad,
Sound Behaviour,
Jerry's Kids,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gories,
Skriet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Altered Images,
Babytalk,
the Sonics,
The Tremeloes,
Maleditus Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Colin Newman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nas,
Scion,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Velvet Underground,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scientists,
Kaleidoscope,
Scrapy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Black Pus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fluxion,
Camberwell Now,
Animal Collective,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grey Daturas,
The Trojans,
Warsaw,
Eddi Front,
Arthur Verocai,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.