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 Nigeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barry Ungar to the grime 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Babytalk,
The Cowsills,
Grauzone,
Sonic Youth,
AZ,
Lyres,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Litter,
The Cramps,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
The Fugs,
This Heat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Durutti Column,
CMW,
The Mojo Men,
Roger Hodgson,
James White and The Blacks,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Anakelly,
The Invisible,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rakim,
Mantronix,
Pulsallama,
Gabor Szabo,
Rapeman,
Audionom,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
In Retrospect,
ABBA,
Brick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ludus,
The New Christs,
The Leaves,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Scrapy,
Jacob Miller,
The Star Department,
Arthur Verocai,
The Last Poets,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Tremeloes,
PIL,
Magazine,
Gong,
Quantec,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fela Kuti,
Grey Daturas,
Slave,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Siglo XX,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Throbbing Gristle,
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.