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 Senegal and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Rakim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boz Scaggs,
Monks,
John Foxx,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glambeats Corp.,
Anthony Braxton,
Stiv Bators,
Livin' Joy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Warren Ellis,
Trumans Water,
The Evens,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Grass Roots,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Names,
Bobby Byrd,
Talk Talk,
Curtis Mayfield,
DJ Style,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Subhumans,
Albert Ayler,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Zapp,
Eve St. Jones,
One Last Wish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scrapy,
Gong,
The Mojo Men,
Bauhaus,
Sonic Youth,
Yellowson,
Rekid,
Nik Kershaw,
Sandy B,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Kinks,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gap Band,
F. McDonald,
Heaven 17,
Index,
Animal Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
Franke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Saccharine Trust,
Minor Threat,
The Seeds,
Leonard Cohen,
Rod Modell,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
The Happenings,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.