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 Mongolia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Gastr Del Sol to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Harmonia,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
JFA,
Los Fastidios,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Slick Rick,
Funkadelic,
Bauhaus,
Robert Wyatt,
Shoche,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dark Day,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Goldenarms,
Reagan Youth,
Davy DMX,
The Buckinghams,
Delta 5,
The Vogues,
Pylon,
Rosa Yemen,
Q and Not U,
Dawn Penn,
Deadbeat,
The Saints,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rapeman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New York Dolls,
Fatback Band,
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soul Sonic Force,
Whodini,
Cal Tjader,
Moebius,
Morten Harket,
Sound Behaviour,
Desert Stars,
The Toasters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alison Limerick,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Remains,
Sex Pistols,
Lungfish,
The Skatalites,
Faraquet,
Swell Maps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
a-ha,
Susan Cadogan,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mojo Men,
Wolf Eyes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.