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 Dominica and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Iggy Pop to the dance 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cecil Taylor,
The Litter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Raincoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
A Certain Ratio,
the Bar-Kays,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jandek,
Sam Rivers,
Jacob Miller,
John Foxx,
D'Angelo,
Graham Central Station,
The Monks,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
The J.B.'s,
Joy Division,
Lalann,
Zapp,
UT,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
K-Klass,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Subhumans,
Japan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
Porter Ricks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Animal Collective,
Absolute Body Control,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Basic Channel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sight & Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Kaleidoscope,
Aural Exciters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dirtbombs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Archie Shepp,
T.S.O.L.,
Pagans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Derrick Morgan,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.