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 Kenya and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Index to the grime 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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,
Qualms,
Rites of Spring,
Wolf Eyes,
Crash Course in Science,
Sam Rivers,
The Dead C,
Aural Exciters,
Grey Daturas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ossler,
The Buckinghams,
B.T. Express,
Simply Red,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lower 48,
Wally Richardson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dave Gahan,
Al Stewart,
The Fire Engines,
Make Up,
Ultravox,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Golliwogs,
John Holt,
Ituana,
The Busters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Terry Callier,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hoover,
Pole,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
Lakeside,
The Pretty Things,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tubeway Army,
Rosa Yemen,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marmalade,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Circle Jerks,
The Five Americans,
Eric Copeland,
Glenn Branca,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hashim,
The New Christs,
Marine Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Newcleus,
Slave,
Zapp,
The Angels of Light,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.