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 Lesotho and from New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 John Foxx to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Christie,
Lower 48,
Rapeman,
Funky Four + One,
PIL,
Pussy Galore,
Ronnie Foster,
The American Breed,
Pantaleimon,
June Days,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sonic Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Chris Corsano,
Deakin,
Mission of Burma,
Minnie Riperton,
The Toasters,
The Young Rascals,
Black Moon,
Zapp,
Ten City,
Can,
Bootsy Collins,
Groovy Waters,
Sällskapet,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalann,
Crash Course in Science,
John Lydon,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets,
Hashim,
Yaz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brick,
Nick Fraelich,
JFA,
Qualms,
Marine Girls,
Excepter,
Fluxion,
Todd Terry,
Scientists,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fall,
John Foxx,
The Durutti Column,
The Blues Magoos,
Malaria!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick May,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.