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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Chris Corsano to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roger Hodgson,
D'Angelo,
X-Ray Spex,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Byrd,
Circle Jerks,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
China Crisis,
Interpol,
Scratch Acid,
The Leaves,
Bluetip,
Slick Rick,
Ituana,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Supertramp,
Bill Near,
kango's stein massive,
The Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Womack,
Godley & Creme,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hasil Adkins,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Warsaw,
Lungfish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amon Düül,
Shoche,
PIL,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aaron Thompson,
Panda Bear,
Pole,
Barbara Tucker,
Camouflage,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eddi Front,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Index,
FM Einheit,
Los Fastidios,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Robert Görl,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
ABBA,
L. Decosne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Sheep,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.