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 El Salvador and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Glenn Branca to the techno 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boredoms,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quadrant,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang Starr,
John Holt,
Todd Terry,
Archie Shepp,
The J.B.'s,
Pet Shop Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tres Demented,
Stiv Bators,
Prince Buster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roxy Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alton Ellis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Television,
Japan,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cybotron,
Thompson Twins,
Spandau Ballet,
Arcadia,
X-101,
Jerry's Kids,
ABBA,
Darondo,
Sixth Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soulsonic Force,
Scan 7,
Dead Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
Intrusion,
Saccharine Trust,
DJ Style,
The Golliwogs,
Mad Mike,
Zero Boys,
The Remains,
Alice Coltrane,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Flag,
The Kinks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.