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 Dominican Republic and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Urselle to the grime 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Mantronix,
Aural Exciters,
The Trojans,
Tom Boy,
The Cure,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
Gichy Dan,
Amon Düül,
The American Breed,
The Buckinghams,
Anakelly,
the Normal,
Newcleus,
Amon Düül II,
Scan 7,
Severed Heads,
Duran Duran,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cramps,
Animal Collective,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donald Byrd,
The Doors,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cybotron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ponytail,
Rites of Spring,
Anthony Braxton,
OOIOO,
Popol Vuh,
Warren Ellis,
Khruangbin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
a-ha,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Glambeats Corp.,
Can,
Arab on Radar,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
The Smiths,
Gong,
Janne Schatter,
Mission of Burma,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick Morgan,
The Raincoats,
Bizarre Inc.,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
Kerrie Biddell,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.