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 Germany and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
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 organ 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 The Litter to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Kinks,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mojo Men,
Yazoo,
Joyce Sims,
Scott Walker,
One Last Wish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joe Smooth,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moebius,
Grauzone,
The Trojans,
Charles Mingus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dual Sessions,
Fluxion,
Kurtis Blow,
Janne Schatter,
Heaven 17,
Delta 5,
Inner City,
The Doors,
Interpol,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
R.M.O.,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Almond,
John Cale,
Avey Tare,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris & Cosey,
Josef K,
Michelle Simonal,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Surgeon,
Fad Gadget,
Harry Pussy,
Byron Stingily,
Scientists,
Urselle,
The Misunderstood,
Mr. Review,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jandek,
Rosa Yemen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun Ra,
Gang Starr,
China Crisis,
Arab on Radar,
Animal Collective,
KRS-One,
Ornette Coleman,
JFA,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.