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 Gabon and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 John Holt to the punk 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Mantronix,
Neu!,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
Soulsonic Force,
The Litter,
Porter Ricks,
Barrington Levy,
the Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
The Star Department,
Lyres,
John Holt,
The Smiths,
Warren Ellis,
Y Pants,
Black Bananas,
The New Christs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bauhaus,
Nils Olav,
The Knickerbockers,
The Remains,
Charles Mingus,
The Dead C,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Slits,
The Evens,
Urselle,
Eric Copeland,
The Martian,
Youth Brigade,
The Vogues,
Lucky Dragons,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wire,
JFA,
Josef K,
Ken Boothe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Loose Ends,
Outsiders,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Womack,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lower 48,
Oneida,
Half Japanese,
The United States of America,
Alton Ellis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Banda Bassotti,
Sun City Girls,
The Kinks,
Guru Guru,
F. McDonald,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.