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 Namibia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 DJ Style to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Funky Four + One,
The Misunderstood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bob Dylan,
Nico,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun Ra,
Panda Bear,
Pussy Galore,
Smog,
Dawn Penn,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Lightning Bolt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Subhumans,
Mo-Dettes,
Sister Nancy,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Walker Brothers,
Skriet,
Tres Demented,
Flash Fearless,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Erasure,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radiohead,
Patti Smith,
L. Decosne,
Bronski Beat,
Animal Collective,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anthony Braxton,
Accadde A,
Robert Hood,
Interpol,
Maleditus Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neil Young,
Aswad,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Evens,
Outsiders,
New York Dolls,
Lower 48,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Finger,
Country Teasers,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.