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 Gambia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Procol Harum to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Arab on Radar,
Sonny Sharrock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scrapy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABBA,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Holt,
Supertramp,
The Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arcadia,
The Five Americans,
Camberwell Now,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cluster,
Pulsallama,
Moby Grape,
Q65,
Ronnie Foster,
The Index,
Aural Exciters,
Tom Boy,
Hashim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nik Kershaw,
Rosa Yemen,
Von Mondo,
Pagans,
The Moleskins,
Eve St. Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drexciya,
The Cramps,
Thee Headcoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
Kerri Chandler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Freddie Wadling,
Crime,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
Bluetip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Real Kids,
Todd Terry,
Black Sheep,
Bad Manners,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Selecter,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.