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 Kuwait and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro 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 the Bar-Kays to the jazz 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bob Dylan,
The Gories,
Audionom,
Crash Course in Science,
Gastr Del Sol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Velvet Underground,
Heaven 17,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Intrusion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zapp,
Lyres,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerri Chandler,
Aswad,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Echospace,
Graham Central Station,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
Aaron Thompson,
Sugar Minott,
Bauhaus,
Quadrant,
Todd Terry,
Spoonie Gee,
Lebanon Hanover,
Index,
Nirvana,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Big Daddy Kane,
Section 25,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Joyce Sims,
Half Japanese,
Guru Guru,
Blake Baxter,
Marine Girls,
Sparks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Motions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Janne Schatter,
Dawn Penn,
the Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kayak,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pierre Henry,
Kaleidoscope,
Pulsallama,
Yellowson,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.