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 Belgium and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warsaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dennis Brown,
Prince Buster,
Fela Kuti,
Los Fastidios,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
Country Teasers,
The Angels of Light,
Brass Construction,
Bang On A Can,
Brick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Aswad,
Moby Grape,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
Gong,
June of 44,
Minor Threat,
David McCallum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stiv Bators,
the Association,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Charles Mingus,
Niagra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New Age Steppers,
ABBA,
The Slackers,
the Swans,
The Real Kids,
Amazonics,
Soulsonic Force,
Kerri Chandler,
Ponytail,
Gang Starr,
The Modern Lovers,
Derrick Morgan,
The Grass Roots,
Section 25,
Subhumans,
The Blues Magoos,
Minutemen,
Model 500,
A Certain Ratio,
Slick Rick,
Mo-Dettes,
Ituana,
The Black Dice,
Boredoms,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Leaves,
Pulsallama,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Busters,
Yaz,
ABC,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.