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 Turkmenistan and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Human League,
Panda Bear,
The Leaves,
Ice-T,
Man Parrish,
Dark Day,
June of 44,
Audionom,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Patti Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Lightning Bolt,
Agent Orange,
Judy Mowatt,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
Unwound,
Echospace,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra,
Mars,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
The Kinks,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
AZ,
Bobby Womack,
Donald Byrd,
John Lydon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Babytalk,
Gong,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Germs,
Radiohead,
Bill Wells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Görl,
Bill Near,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Y Pants,
Grey Daturas,
FM Einheit,
Qualms,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Busters,
Yazoo,
ABC,
Aloha Tigers,
The Smiths,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.