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 Kiribati and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb 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 John Holt to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
PIL,
Girls At Our Best!,
Danielle Patucci,
Camberwell Now,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Audionom,
The Skatalites,
Joyce Sims,
B.T. Express,
David McCallum,
Thompson Twins,
Harry Pussy,
Bauhaus,
Funky Four + One,
The Tremeloes,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Stooges,
Leonard Cohen,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter & Gordon,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
H. Thieme,
Dennis Brown,
The Sonics,
The Cowsills,
Wasted Youth,
Lalann,
Bob Dylan,
Sam Rivers,
The Vogues,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
Niagra,
Yaz,
The Remains,
Accadde A,
Gang of Four,
Alison Limerick,
Icehouse,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
Neu!,
Nils Olav,
Visage,
Young Marble Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Archie Shepp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tomorrow,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
FM Einheit,
Deepchord,
Blancmange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gong,
Dawn Penn,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.