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 Nauru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arthur Verocai to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Brothers Johnson,
Rites of Spring,
Man Parrish,
the Normal,
DJ Style,
Alphaville,
The Names,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Electric Prunes,
Q and Not U,
Moebius,
Quantec,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-Ray Spex,
Laurel Aitken,
The Trojans,
Kerri Chandler,
DNA,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Maleditus Sound,
Sällskapet,
Pierre Henry,
Mantronix,
Patti Smith,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Monochrome Set,
Cecil Taylor,
Albert Ayler,
Severed Heads,
John Lydon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Cybotron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wolf Eyes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mad Mike,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fall,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols,
Fear,
D'Angelo,
Ten City,
Cluster,
Rosa Yemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ornette Coleman,
Surgeon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Pretty Things,
Simply Red,
JFA,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.