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 Bahrain and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Michelle Simonal to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlback,
These Immortal Souls,
Kaleidoscope,
K-Klass,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-101,
The Moleskins,
Bang On A Can,
48th St. Collective,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
Oblivians,
The Motions,
Rites of Spring,
Wings,
Alton Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Yaz,
Faraquet,
The Move,
Cheater Slicks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hardrive,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fortunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Christie,
Animal Collective,
Moss Icon,
Peter and Kerry,
B.T. Express,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gun Club,
Schoolly D,
New Age Steppers,
Monolake,
Lungfish,
Arcadia,
Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
The Birthday Party,
Skriet,
Shuggie Otis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Delon & Dalcan,
Swans,
the Slits,
Archie Shepp,
The Offenders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Bar-Kays,
Make Up,
The Real Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Ohio Players,
Unwound,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.