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 Finland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Beau Brummels to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
China Crisis,
Janne Schatter,
Parry Music,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Slits,
Mo-Dettes,
Thee Headcoats,
Blancmange,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Wells,
Colin Newman,
Theoretical Girls,
Scientists,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gun Club,
Sixth Finger,
Mr. Review,
Joe Finger,
Frankie Knuckles,
Clear Light,
Franke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Litter,
Letta Mbulu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Steve Hackett,
Yellowson,
Stetsasonic,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Public Enemy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Martian,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
Harry Pussy,
Al Stewart,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lungfish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
kango's stein massive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stereo Dub,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Isaac Hayes,
Sight & Sound,
The Kinks,
Robert Wyatt,
Hoover,
Crooked Eye,
Mark Hollis,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monks,
The Sonics,
the Germs,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes,
Mantronix,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.