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 Kazakhstan and from Manila.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
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 808 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 Scott Walker to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Eden Ahbez,
The Martian,
Severed Heads,
H. Thieme,
Tubeway Army,
Don Cherry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Qualms,
Brass Construction,
Byron Stingily,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Eddi Front,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Almond,
Mark Hollis,
Yusef Lateef,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
T.S.O.L.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Parrish,
Goldenarms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scion,
Girls At Our Best!,
The American Breed,
Magma,
Maurizio,
Lalo Schifrin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aural Exciters,
Spandau Ballet,
Iggy Pop,
Nas,
The Birthday Party,
Lakeside,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mad Mike,
Flipper,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Saints,
Curtis Mayfield,
Loose Ends,
The Fall,
Kurtis Blow,
Gichy Dan,
Fad Gadget,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Deakin,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Average White Band,
Angry Samoans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.