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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Christie,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Basic Channel,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
This Heat,
Slave,
Pylon,
Essential Logic,
The Toasters,
Sam Rivers,
Bob Dylan,
Ituana,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bauhaus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Derrick May,
Mary Jane Girls,
MDC,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Leonard Cohen,
Josef K,
Scan 7,
Visage,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jacob Miller,
Accadde A,
Todd Rundgren,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Organ,
Sun Ra,
Nik Kershaw,
Andrew Hill,
JFA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Byrd,
Crooked Eye,
Thompson Twins,
Pantytec,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Japan,
The Buckinghams,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Technova,
Main Source,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deakin,
Robert Görl,
David McCallum,
Sound Behaviour,
H. Thieme,
Chris & Cosey,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.