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 Moldova and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mr. Review 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Letta Mbulu,
Alphaville,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Outsiders,
The Zeros,
Organ,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Thompson Twins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Animal Collective,
The Sonics,
Camouflage,
Hot Snakes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Leonard Cohen,
Unrelated Segments,
The Saints,
Archie Shepp,
Crime,
Unwound,
Vladislav Delay,
Joey Negro,
John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
Moss Icon,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shoche,
Half Japanese,
the Association,
Crispy Ambulance,
E-Dancer,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ornette Coleman,
Tom Boy,
Pantytec,
The Evens,
Television Personalities,
Stetsasonic,
Warsaw,
Black Flag,
Siglo XX,
Quantec,
This Heat,
Gerry Rafferty,
K-Klass,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eurythmics,
Masters at Work,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
LL Cool J,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Victims,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.