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 Mauritius and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 Kerrie Biddell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Crime,
Tropical Tobacco,
Icehouse,
Interpol,
Todd Terry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television Personalities,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Flag,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minutemen,
Neil Young,
Maurizio,
Judy Mowatt,
The Wake,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Clarke,
Motorama,
Colin Newman,
Niagra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Amon Düül II,
Main Source,
Charles Mingus,
These Immortal Souls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Underground Resistance,
Tres Demented,
Little Man,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ossler,
The Star Department,
Suicide,
Harmonia,
Ornette Coleman,
Pussy Galore,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bang On A Can,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lower 48,
LL Cool J,
Sister Nancy,
Second Layer,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dave Clark Five,
Swans,
E-Dancer,
Kurtis Blow,
Vladislav Delay,
Mr. Review,
Rhythm & Sound,
One Last Wish,
Mission of Burma,
Organ,
the Sonics,
The Buckinghams,
Pylon,
The Fugs,
Graham Central Station,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.