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 Honduras and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oneida to the punk 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pulsallama,
Dark Day,
Skriet,
Sarah Menescal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
Magma,
Pierre Henry,
Clear Light,
The Remains,
David Bowie,
Unrelated Segments,
Chris Corsano,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Prunes,
The Young Rascals,
Wasted Youth,
Hoover,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Count Five,
The Gun Club,
Rotary Connection,
Scratch Acid,
EPMD,
The Music Machine,
Connie Case,
Alton Ellis,
Urselle,
Ornette Coleman,
KRS-One,
Surgeon,
Zapp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fugazi,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
F. McDonald,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soft Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lightning Bolt,
The Star Department,
Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Main Source,
The Doors,
Mary Jane Girls,
Can,
Eddi Front,
The Cure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Das Ding,
Piero Umiliani,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.