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 Botswana and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deakin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '60s 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 Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
David Bowie,
Simply Red,
Carl Craig,
Dave Gahan,
The Smiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Pus,
Grey Daturas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sällskapet,
Depeche Mode,
Arab on Radar,
Dennis Brown,
Pole,
The Sound,
The Pretty Things,
David Axelrod,
MDC,
Oneida,
Johnny Clarke,
OOIOO,
Iggy Pop,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harry Pussy,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Vogues,
John Foxx,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Erasure,
Unrelated Segments,
Motorama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gun Club,
E-Dancer,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yazoo,
Nico,
Porter Ricks,
Crime,
Angry Samoans,
The Trojans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter and Kerry,
Lindisfarne,
New York Dolls,
Althea and Donna,
Skaos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Silicon Teens,
Archie Shepp,
Matthew Halsall,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.