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 Azerbaijan and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 The Sonics to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sarah Menescal,
Dave Gahan,
H. Thieme,
Accadde A,
Babytalk,
The Moleskins,
Supertramp,
The Birthday Party,
The Neon Judgement,
Warren Ellis,
Cal Tjader,
Black Flag,
Blossom Toes,
Barbara Tucker,
Guru Guru,
Pulsallama,
Malaria!,
Flash Fearless,
In Retrospect,
Sandy B,
Warsaw,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Prince Buster,
Marvin Gaye,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
a-ha,
The Standells,
Soulsonic Force,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
Fear,
The Wake,
Donald Byrd,
Technova,
Marmalade,
Panda Bear,
Moss Icon,
Ludus,
Alison Limerick,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Yazoo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eddi Front,
The Martian,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Age Steppers,
Suburban Knight,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Agitation Free,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.