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 Namibia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Lucky Dragons to the funk 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
This Heat,
Gang Green,
The Pop Group,
Gong,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pussy Galore,
Sixth Finger,
Skaos,
The Fall,
Rapeman,
Hasil Adkins,
Pylon,
Ohio Players,
The Smiths,
New Order,
Cheater Slicks,
Agent Orange,
The Misunderstood,
The Tremeloes,
Qualms,
Von Mondo,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Wells,
Byron Stingily,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sonics,
The Martian,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
Juan Atkins,
Pierre Henry,
The Techniques,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Zeros,
Glenn Branca,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hot Snakes,
Adolescents,
Scrapy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jeff Mills,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Flag,
Lindisfarne,
Motorama,
Con Funk Shun,
Mr. Review,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48,
Iggy Pop,
Sound Behaviour,
Godley & Creme,
Blake Baxter,
Royal Trux,
cv313,
Ronnie Foster,
Bush Tetras,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.