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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the grunge 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Faust,
The Raincoats,
Alphaville,
Depeche Mode,
Rakim,
Hardrive,
Angry Samoans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
Zapp,
Ossler,
cv313,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxette,
Agitation Free,
Mr. Review,
Lucky Dragons,
Khruangbin,
Rekid,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boogie Down Productions,
Janne Schatter,
Hasil Adkins,
Amon Düül II,
Tim Buckley,
Dark Day,
Arthur Verocai,
Quadrant,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Techniques,
The Durutti Column,
Franke,
Pylon,
The Invisible,
Quantec,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Ponytail,
K-Klass,
Amon Düül,
U.S. Maple,
Rod Modell,
Bluetip,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yaz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grauzone,
Derrick Morgan,
Blossom Toes,
Lower 48,
James White and The Blacks,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.