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 Slovenia and from Stockholm.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Archie Shepp to the crunk 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
The Fugs,
Bootsy Collins,
Subhumans,
Underground Resistance,
JFA,
Eurythmics,
Scion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Grey Daturas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Saccharine Trust,
Swell Maps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABBA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MC5,
DJ Sneak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sparks,
Flash Fearless,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Eli Mardock,
Rufus Thomas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-102,
The Shadows of Knight,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ponytail,
Roxette,
The Dead C,
Electric Prunes,
Bad Manners,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
Alice Coltrane,
Basic Channel,
Silicon Teens,
Crooked Eye,
Ornette Coleman,
Thompson Twins,
KRS-One,
Au Pairs,
A Certain Ratio,
ABC,
48th St. Collective,
The Fortunes,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pylon,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.