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 Mauritania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
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 clarinet 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 Ituana to the punk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Busters,
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
Newcleus,
FM Einheit,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arthur Verocai,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dave Gahan,
Grauzone,
Bobby Sherman,
Gastr Del Sol,
cv313,
a-ha,
Sugar Minott,
The Knickerbockers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Donald Byrd,
Ponytail,
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Normal,
John Holt,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eddi Front,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
JFA,
John Foxx,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scrapy,
Amon Düül II,
Groovy Waters,
Bob Dylan,
The Beau Brummels,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Görl,
Mandrill,
Joy Division,
Spoonie Gee,
Mr. Review,
The Dead C,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Sneak,
The Selecter,
Von Mondo,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sällskapet,
Los Fastidios,
Junior Murvin,
Prince Buster,
Y Pants,
Sight & Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marmalade,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.