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 Somalia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the disco 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
Donny Hathaway,
Eurythmics,
Jacob Miller,
Lungfish,
The Martian,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
Ornette Coleman,
Johnny Clarke,
The Standells,
Dual Sessions,
Interpol,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scan 7,
Index,
Magazine,
DJ Style,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Neon Judgement,
Symarip,
Eli Mardock,
Cameo,
Mission of Burma,
Fluxion,
Dawn Penn,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
The Associates,
Stereo Dub,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Birthday Party,
Kenny Larkin,
The American Breed,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
One Last Wish,
These Immortal Souls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dark Day,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Matthew Halsall,
Lucky Dragons,
Colin Newman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rod Modell,
Hasil Adkins,
Toni Rubio,
Rekid,
Scrapy,
Faraquet,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Green,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.