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 Lebanon and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Lucky Dragons,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Near,
Vladislav Delay,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Duran Duran,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
Khruangbin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lakeside,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Michelle Simonal,
KRS-One,
The Beau Brummels,
Scion,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Con Funk Shun,
Peter & Gordon,
Wire,
Whodini,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultra Naté,
Livin' Joy,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
Laurel Aitken,
The Searchers,
Blake Baxter,
Goldenarms,
Thee Headcoats,
Cameo,
Buzzcocks,
Mantronix,
the Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
The Mummies,
Deepchord,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Flag,
Curtis Mayfield,
10cc,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
Essential Logic,
Delta 5,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.