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 Laos and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro 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 Tomorrow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
the Sonics,
Mars,
The Wake,
La Düsseldorf,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dawn Penn,
Infiniti,
Cecil Taylor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skriet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jimmy McGriff,
Little Man,
The Stooges,
The Sound,
Amazonics,
The Zeros,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camouflage,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Heaven 17,
Lungfish,
Letta Mbulu,
Drexciya,
Organ,
Monolake,
Dark Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erykah Badu,
the Bar-Kays,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stereo Dub,
Qualms,
Blake Baxter,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
Ice-T,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
MC5,
The Gladiators,
The Evens,
The Count Five,
Graham Central Station,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sandy B,
Hoover,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mandrill,
The Remains,
Roger Hodgson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oblivians,
Altered Images,
Arab on Radar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hardrive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T.S.O.L.,
Bronski Beat,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.