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 Panama and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slits to the disco 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Desert Stars,
Rakim,
D'Angelo,
Severed Heads,
Wolf Eyes,
Scrapy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Standells,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Walker Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Starr,
Girls At Our Best!,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
E-Dancer,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
The Vogues,
Lalann,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Teasers,
The Leaves,
Yellowson,
Moss Icon,
Fad Gadget,
Au Pairs,
Porter Ricks,
Young Marble Giants,
Urselle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Doors,
Qualms,
Swell Maps,
Camouflage,
Stereo Dub,
Quadrant,
Stiv Bators,
Nils Olav,
Pantytec,
Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers,
Kaleidoscope,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Newcleus,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mr. Review,
The Stooges,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Cal Tjader,
This Heat,
the Normal,
Faust,
Khruangbin,
Tomorrow,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.