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 Andorra and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Kool Moe Dee,
Donny Hathaway,
Angry Samoans,
Fluxion,
The Searchers,
Crime,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
Black Moon,
The Black Dice,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monolake,
Bad Manners,
Man Parrish,
Gang Green,
The Last Poets,
Mad Mike,
World's Most,
Ohio Players,
Ponytail,
Neu!,
Clear Light,
Barrington Levy,
The Evens,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
The Knickerbockers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Arab on Radar,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fad Gadget,
Eurythmics,
The Flesh Eaters,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Vladislav Delay,
Johnny Osbourne,
Henry Cow,
Public Image Ltd.,
OOIOO,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Leonard Cohen,
Excepter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fuzztones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barbara Tucker,
New Order,
Tubeway Army,
The Star Department,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Animal Collective,
Newcleus,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.