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 Saudi Arabia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Drexciya to the disco 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Slits,
Surgeon,
Rod Modell,
Idris Muhammad,
Procol Harum,
Inner City,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wasted Youth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gerry Rafferty,
Underground Resistance,
John Lydon,
June of 44,
Lyres,
The Five Americans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Prince Buster,
Shuggie Otis,
Derrick Morgan,
The Leaves,
Pole,
Gichy Dan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cluster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Fania All-Stars,
Easy Going,
The Stooges,
Isaac Hayes,
Talk Talk,
Peter and Kerry,
Thee Headcoats,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
ABC,
Delta 5,
Eli Mardock,
Suburban Knight,
Rites of Spring,
Alphaville,
Rakim,
Nico,
Scientists,
Mission of Burma,
A Certain Ratio,
Sam Rivers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rapeman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Depeche Mode,
The Angels of Light,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.