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 Syria and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
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 arpeggiator 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 Archie Shepp to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Quadrant,
Massinfluence,
The Fuzztones,
Heaven 17,
Radiohead,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Black Pus,
Jeff Mills,
David McCallum,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Sherman,
Lalann,
the Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
Sixth Finger,
Robert Hood,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
The Music Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Lucky Dragons,
Bob Dylan,
The Velvet Underground,
Accadde A,
the Human League,
Oblivians,
Sandy B,
Babytalk,
Don Cherry,
The Young Rascals,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siglo XX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Porter Ricks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cybotron,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Five Americans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Joyce Sims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Infiniti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rod Modell,
UT,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dual Sessions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Colin Newman,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
Brick,
Soft Machine,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.