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 Syria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 The Monks to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Outsiders,
The Vogues,
Moby Grape,
the Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aloha Tigers,
the Slits,
Swans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantaleimon,
The Detroit Cobras,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Davy DMX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ken Boothe,
Silicon Teens,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Black Dice,
Mission of Burma,
Mantronix,
Nik Kershaw,
Kaleidoscope,
Gerry Rafferty,
AZ,
Drexciya,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABC,
Brass Construction,
Crash Course in Science,
Zero Boys,
Organ,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
June Days,
Wire,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
T.S.O.L.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Residents,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantytec,
The Mummies,
Maurizio,
Godley & Creme,
Interpol,
Reagan Youth,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.