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 Sierra Leone and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 The Offenders to the grunge 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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Neil Young,
Roxette,
Robert Hood,
the Germs,
Joe Smooth,
Blossom Toes,
The Red Krayola,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fall,
Duran Duran,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Inner City,
Hardrive,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ken Boothe,
The Moleskins,
Ultimate Spinach,
The American Breed,
Monolake,
The Doors,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Jacques Brel,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
Grauzone,
Pylon,
the Slits,
Bill Wells,
Eve St. Jones,
Junior Murvin,
Hashim,
Massinfluence,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jandek,
Altered Images,
Dave Gahan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Zeros,
Country Teasers,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gun Club,
Desert Stars,
Electric Prunes,
Negative Approach,
Ornette Coleman,
Intrusion,
Mission of Burma,
Crispy Ambulance,
Depeche Mode,
Eric Copeland,
Sarah Menescal,
Lindisfarne,
The Trojans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yaz,
The Selecter,
Maurizio,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.