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 Japan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the disco 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barry Ungar,
The Cramps,
The Last Poets,
T.S.O.L.,
KRS-One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Babytalk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Donald Byrd,
The Smiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Excepter,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Divine Comedy,
Stockholm Monsters,
UT,
Rufus Thomas,
The Index,
The Red Krayola,
Quando Quango,
Mary Jane Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
Joey Negro,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric Copeland,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Swans,
Lakeside,
Con Funk Shun,
Bill Near,
The Music Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Aaron Thompson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wire,
The Black Dice,
The Smoke,
Gang Starr,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dual Sessions,
Dark Day,
Reuben Wilson,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
Anthony Braxton,
Wings,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Association,
Ossler,
Crime,
Youth Brigade,
Maurizio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.