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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
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 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Bluetip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nils Olav,
Das Ding,
Bob Dylan,
cv313,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gories,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
Jawbox,
Audionom,
Lyres,
Swell Maps,
Black Moon,
Magma,
T. Rex,
The Tremeloes,
Dawn Penn,
R.M.O.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy Collins,
Roy Ayers,
Y Pants,
The Birthday Party,
Television,
Siglo XX,
Gichy Dan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Neu!,
Stereo Dub,
Hasil Adkins,
Erykah Badu,
Albert Ayler,
L. Decosne,
Donald Byrd,
Royal Trux,
June Days,
The Knickerbockers,
Fluxion,
The Leaves,
Japan,
Franke,
The Doors,
The Barracudas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Average White Band,
Sex Pistols,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Whodini,
La Düsseldorf,
Barrington Levy,
Susan Cadogan,
Blake Baxter,
10cc,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.