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 United States and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Anakelly,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sparks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Mars,
Ornette Coleman,
Yaz,
The Divine Comedy,
Howard Jones,
Icehouse,
Hardrive,
Panda Bear,
New Order,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Durutti Column,
Alphaville,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fuzztones,
The Grass Roots,
Stetsasonic,
The Angels of Light,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Age Steppers,
New York Dolls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bush Tetras,
a-ha,
The Mojo Men,
Amon Düül,
Rufus Thomas,
48th St. Collective,
Hoover,
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
David Bowie,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sister Nancy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scion,
Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Unrelated Segments,
Freddie Wadling,
Ice-T,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Busters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
MDC,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
Section 25,
Jacques Brel,
Scientists,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.