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 Antigua and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
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 spring reverb 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Misunderstood,
Howard Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Symarip,
Ossler,
Tommy Roe,
Boogie Down Productions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Blancmange,
Prince Buster,
Andrew Hill,
Duran Duran,
the Slits,
New York Dolls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mandrill,
Faraquet,
Newcleus,
Flash Fearless,
Crispy Ambulance,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eurythmics,
Liliput,
The Monks,
Fear,
Jeru the Damaja,
Terry Callier,
The Litter,
Zero Boys,
Subhumans,
Vainqueur,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Faust,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
OOIOO,
Pharoah Sanders,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gichy Dan,
Can,
The Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Smog,
Brand Nubian,
Chrome,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ituana,
Popol Vuh,
Maleditus Sound,
Eddi Front,
Guru Guru,
The Leaves,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dead C,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.