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 Georgia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the funk 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Von Mondo,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Drive Like Jehu,
H. Thieme,
The Victims,
Nick Fraelich,
Carl Craig,
X-Ray Spex,
The Count Five,
Pylon,
Mo-Dettes,
Ten City,
Animal Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crash Course in Science,
Newcleus,
Liliput,
The Knickerbockers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers,
Warsaw,
The Pretty Things,
Joey Negro,
Joensuu 1685,
John Lydon,
Unwound,
Yazoo,
Moss Icon,
Rekid,
Grey Daturas,
Aloha Tigers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Pop Group,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
48th St. Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scrapy,
Oblivians,
Magma,
Don Cherry,
Brass Construction,
The Cure,
Minor Threat,
Pulsallama,
OOIOO,
Yellowson,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reuben Wilson,
The Associates,
Amon Düül II,
Scientists,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tim Buckley,
The Slackers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.