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 Suriname and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 Heaven 17 to the disco 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nico,
The Last Poets,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jawbox,
Lakeside,
Erasure,
Eli Mardock,
Adolescents,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Golliwogs,
Wings,
Negative Approach,
X-Ray Spex,
Scrapy,
Reagan Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swans,
Morten Harket,
Sarah Menescal,
Index,
Black Moon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tears for Fears,
The Black Dice,
Thee Headcoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hardrive,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Litter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minnie Riperton,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lower 48,
Yellowson,
Janne Schatter,
The Barracudas,
Unrelated Segments,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
The New Christs,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cowsills,
Lindisfarne,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultravox,
Lyres,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
ABBA,
The Human League,
Monks,
Y Pants,
Heaven 17,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.