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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the rap 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cal Tjader,
The Grass Roots,
One Last Wish,
Scientists,
Darondo,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mandrill,
Rod Modell,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skaos,
The Buckinghams,
Johnny Clarke,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moebius,
The Fall,
Alton Ellis,
Zero Boys,
the Slits,
Sex Pistols,
A Certain Ratio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angry Samoans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
The Birthday Party,
John Cale,
Warsaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
Steve Hackett,
Gastr Del Sol,
Severed Heads,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Kinks,
Bill Near,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neu!,
Pulsallama,
Black Bananas,
Janne Schatter,
Hashim,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Andrew Hill,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
World's Most,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.