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 Cameroon and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Khruangbin to the grunge 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Frankie Knuckles,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
The Moody Blues,
The Doors,
Zero Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
Derrick May,
Joe Smooth,
Don Cherry,
Dark Day,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eli Mardock,
Yusef Lateef,
JFA,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Niagra,
The Music Machine,
Camberwell Now,
Idris Muhammad,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harmonia,
Jawbox,
Bill Near,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
The Fall,
Eric B and Rakim,
PIL,
The Searchers,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Minor Threat,
Rufus Thomas,
The Vogues,
Organ,
Ultravox,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Camouflage,
Aural Exciters,
Marmalade,
Bizarre Inc.,
R.M.O.,
the Swans,
La Düsseldorf,
Angry Samoans,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
Inner City,
The Black Dice,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Germs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Infiniti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.