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 Botswana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Hot Snakes to the disco 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Black Pus,
Procol Harum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rufus Thomas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rapeman,
Half Japanese,
Eli Mardock,
Ten City,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Babytalk,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
Jacques Brel,
Q and Not U,
The Moleskins,
Ultra Naté,
Tubeway Army,
Sight & Sound,
Joey Negro,
Shuggie Otis,
The Sound,
Main Source,
K-Klass,
Aswad,
Underground Resistance,
Yaz,
The Grass Roots,
June Days,
Thee Headcoats,
Fatback Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Eve St. Jones,
The Saints,
Porter Ricks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
B.T. Express,
Sällskapet,
Archie Shepp,
The Count Five,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ronnie Foster,
Bluetip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Skaos,
Lower 48,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
Unwound,
Aaron Thompson,
Bang On A Can,
The Move,
Deakin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Cale,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.