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 Germany and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Funkadelic to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Henry Cow,
Trumans Water,
John Foxx,
Scan 7,
This Heat,
Gabor Szabo,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Babytalk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moss Icon,
The Real Kids,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Music Machine,
Ossler,
Lightning Bolt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moebius,
Metal Thangz,
Underground Resistance,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
Quadrant,
Saccharine Trust,
Godley & Creme,
The Index,
Newcleus,
Ohio Players,
Bush Tetras,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marmalade,
Magma,
Electric Prunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Stereo Dub,
Patti Smith,
Black Flag,
Agitation Free,
Hardrive,
Grey Daturas,
Arthur Verocai,
Mad Mike,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Outsiders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eurythmics,
The Knickerbockers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lungfish,
The Blackbyrds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skarface,
Shuggie Otis,
The Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
Marine Girls,
The Searchers,
Dave Gahan,
Matthew Halsall,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.