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 Montenegro and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Barry Ungar to the crunk 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
48th St. Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deepchord,
Qualms,
Dark Day,
Fela Kuti,
The Cure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Massinfluence,
Nils Olav,
Underground Resistance,
Alphaville,
Crooked Eye,
Angry Samoans,
A Certain Ratio,
Young Marble Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Duran Duran,
Eve St. Jones,
Excepter,
Dawn Penn,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers,
Yellowson,
Von Mondo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Agent Orange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
Infiniti,
Panda Bear,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Machine,
The Busters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Patti Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kenny Larkin,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Wyatt,
Anakelly,
Minutemen,
Dave Gahan,
Bob Dylan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Piero Umiliani,
Nirvana,
Jawbox,
Donald Byrd,
Loose Ends,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kevin Saunderson,
Iggy Pop,
Sarah Menescal,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.