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 Sweden and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jawbox to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
The Techniques,
Brick,
Monks,
Lou Christie,
Index,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Saints,
The Tremeloes,
Mo-Dettes,
Echospace,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Smog,
Sonny Sharrock,
EPMD,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
Aural Exciters,
DJ Sneak,
Eric Copeland,
Basic Channel,
Matthew Bourne,
The Divine Comedy,
Moby Grape,
Carl Craig,
Popol Vuh,
Quadrant,
John Coltrane,
the Swans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
Sarah Menescal,
Donny Hathaway,
Stetsasonic,
Rufus Thomas,
Wire,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sister Nancy,
Thee Headcoats,
Bob Dylan,
The Gories,
Harpers Bizarre,
Judy Mowatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Michelle Simonal,
The Slackers,
Slave,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Pus,
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
Morten Harket,
Whodini,
New Order,
Half Japanese,
Tom Boy,
Loose Ends,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.