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 Malta and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 PIL to the crunk 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
The Vogues,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
Liliput,
Oblivians,
cv313,
Grauzone,
Vladislav Delay,
The Offenders,
Yusef Lateef,
Los Fastidios,
Soft Machine,
The Leaves,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry,
Main Source,
The Index,
Swans,
Neu!,
Goldenarms,
The Knickerbockers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
Lower 48,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Whodini,
The Cowsills,
Camouflage,
The Techniques,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Banda Bassotti,
Bob Dylan,
The Star Department,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Foxx,
The Velvet Underground,
Dark Day,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül,
H. Thieme,
Hasil Adkins,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
Al Stewart,
Graham Central Station,
Tomorrow,
Yellowson,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
Audionom,
MDC,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Half Japanese,
UT,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.