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 Kyrgyzstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rufus Thomas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
Eddi Front,
Negative Approach,
The Victims,
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
LL Cool J,
Glenn Branca,
Susan Cadogan,
Toni Rubio,
Derrick Morgan,
Tres Demented,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
X-Ray Spex,
Malaria!,
EPMD,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drexciya,
a-ha,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultra Naté,
Nas,
New Age Steppers,
Minor Threat,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cure,
Khruangbin,
The Mojo Men,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Remains,
Goldenarms,
Outsiders,
Icehouse,
Can,
The Angels of Light,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun Ra,
ABBA,
Rufus Thomas,
Underground Resistance,
Bauhaus,
CMW,
Patti Smith,
Reagan Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Von Mondo,
The Searchers,
Faust,
The Evens,
The United States of America,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Alice Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
The J.B.'s,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.