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 Tonga and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 Roxette to the funk 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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Wolf Eyes,
The Human League,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Interpol,
Parry Music,
Isaac Hayes,
Nils Olav,
Bad Manners,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
Mr. Review,
Susan Cadogan,
Royal Trux,
The Stooges,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Archie Shepp,
Sparks,
Procol Harum,
Quando Quango,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radiohead,
Fad Gadget,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
Sugar Minott,
Negative Approach,
Pagans,
Glenn Branca,
Visage,
Technova,
Tom Boy,
Unrelated Segments,
Scratch Acid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slits,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Invisible,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tim Buckley,
Minutemen,
MC5,
Oblivians,
Intrusion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Model 500,
Erasure,
Idris Muhammad,
Charles Mingus,
Cymande,
Ornette Coleman,
The United States of America,
Maurizio,
E-Dancer,
The Fortunes,
The Standells,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.