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 Kenya and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Danielle Patucci to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
X-Ray Spex,
Grauzone,
The Toasters,
The Selecter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
UT,
Goldenarms,
Aswad,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fugazi,
The Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Alice Coltrane,
Ponytail,
Warsaw,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore,
Lucky Dragons,
The Raincoats,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Jawbox,
Excepter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joyce Sims,
Pole,
Masters at Work,
The Walker Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
June of 44,
Subhumans,
Jandek,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
Nico,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Josef K,
Mr. Review,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Lynne,
Zapp,
The Move,
Harry Pussy,
Faraquet,
Susan Cadogan,
Tears for Fears,
Fela Kuti,
Reuben Wilson,
Tom Boy,
The Names,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
Qualms,
Bronski Beat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.