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 Bangladesh and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 A Certain Ratio to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Andrew Hill,
Sam Rivers,
The Dead C,
Mission of Burma,
Hardrive,
MDC,
Magma,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxy Music,
Y Pants,
Ultravox,
Darondo,
Lungfish,
Barrington Levy,
Depeche Mode,
Carl Craig,
Aaron Thompson,
Kas Product,
Au Pairs,
Tubeway Army,
Cymande,
Joe Finger,
The Searchers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Age Steppers,
The Blues Magoos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Aloha Tigers,
Smog,
Soul Sonic Force,
China Crisis,
Joyce Sims,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Simply Red,
Khruangbin,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Hood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Michelle Simonal,
Funky Four + One,
Scott Walker,
The Mummies,
The Modern Lovers,
Mr. Review,
The Smoke,
The Pretty Things,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gories,
The Fall,
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
The Fuzztones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wasted Youth,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.