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 Turkmenistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Byrd to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sister Nancy,
Suicide,
Matthew Halsall,
The Remains,
Japan,
PIL,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Don Cherry,
The Cowsills,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minnie Riperton,
Ice-T,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ronnie Foster,
Sixth Finger,
The Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Leaves,
Steve Hackett,
Stiv Bators,
Trumans Water,
Jerry's Kids,
Franke,
The Blackbyrds,
Alton Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deadbeat,
The Knickerbockers,
Inner City,
Lightning Bolt,
The Beau Brummels,
A Certain Ratio,
Joensuu 1685,
Crash Course in Science,
Nico,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Offenders,
Roxette,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nirvana,
Erykah Badu,
The Dave Clark Five,
KRS-One,
Technova,
Cybotron,
Sight & Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.