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 Spain and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Little Man to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Malaria!,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cluster,
Rod Modell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Youth Brigade,
Carl Craig,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
Stiv Bators,
Television,
The Trojans,
Joey Negro,
Second Layer,
The Beau Brummels,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sonny Sharrock,
Judy Mowatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Essential Logic,
Juan Atkins,
Leonard Cohen,
The Remains,
Blancmange,
Joyce Sims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Almond,
The Gun Club,
Marine Girls,
Average White Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smiths,
The Evens,
Franke,
Crooked Eye,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faust,
Newcleus,
Silicon Teens,
Fat Boys,
Nils Olav,
Don Cherry,
Outsiders,
Black Sheep,
The Cure,
John Lydon,
Talk Talk,
The Mojo Men,
Warren Ellis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres,
The Blues Magoos,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
T. Rex,
The Offenders,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Normal,
Skarface,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.