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 Togo and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the electroclash 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Reagan Youth,
The Leaves,
H. Thieme,
Franke,
Bobby Sherman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barrington Levy,
Warren Ellis,
Funkadelic,
Todd Terry,
Leonard Cohen,
a-ha,
Kurtis Blow,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
June of 44,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Copeland,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gap Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scan 7,
Minor Threat,
Joey Negro,
Fela Kuti,
the Sonics,
Q and Not U,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Theoretical Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Prince Buster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eddi Front,
Clear Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
Nik Kershaw,
Nirvana,
LL Cool J,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalann,
Buzzcocks,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.