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 Belize and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stiv Bators to the disco 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Sixth Finger,
Khruangbin,
The Fugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kenny Larkin,
Funky Four + One,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Donald Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Görl,
Eden Ahbez,
The Five Americans,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Theoretical Girls,
Pole,
Juan Atkins,
Dave Gahan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mission of Burma,
Peter and Kerry,
Fela Kuti,
the Slits,
The Busters,
The Index,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
The Velvet Underground,
Con Funk Shun,
ABC,
Animal Collective,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Green,
Boredoms,
Sun Ra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dawn Penn,
Neu!,
Nico,
Lower 48,
OOIOO,
Ohio Players,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ossler,
Zero Boys,
Dennis Brown,
Suicide,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric Dolphy,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Judy Mowatt,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.