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 Georgia and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Joey Negro to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Boredoms,
Vladislav Delay,
Rites of Spring,
Dennis Brown,
Groovy Waters,
Harry Pussy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
L. Decosne,
In Retrospect,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gabor Szabo,
Audionom,
This Heat,
June Days,
Porter Ricks,
Joensuu 1685,
The Offenders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nils Olav,
Minny Pops,
The Dead C,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eve St. Jones,
Roxy Music,
Anakelly,
The Blackbyrds,
Camberwell Now,
Jacob Miller,
Rapeman,
The Music Machine,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Banda Bassotti,
Aswad,
Pere Ubu,
DJ Sneak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kurtis Blow,
Amazonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fear,
Ken Boothe,
The Zeros,
Dave Gahan,
The Trojans,
Main Source,
Saccharine Trust,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drexciya,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.