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 Poland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Drexciya to the grime 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Frankie Knuckles,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Tremeloes,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
Malaria!,
Brothers Johnson,
Subhumans,
Young Marble Giants,
Archie Shepp,
Sexual Harrassment,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joensuu 1685,
Thompson Twins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
48th St. Collective,
Minnie Riperton,
Desert Stars,
Moss Icon,
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
The Music Machine,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cal Tjader,
Bang On A Can,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nils Olav,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Infiniti,
Rapeman,
Bad Manners,
Masters at Work,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moleskins,
Magma,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Black Dice,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Bananas,
Laurel Aitken,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tom Boy,
The Raincoats,
DJ Style,
Fad Gadget,
Chris & Cosey,
K-Klass,
Juan Atkins,
Make Up,
Joyce Sims,
Eric B and Rakim,
Excepter,
The Names,
Panda Bear,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.