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 Honduras and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flesh Eaters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Little Man,
Amazonics,
F. McDonald,
Drexciya,
Visage,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Skatalites,
Oblivians,
Intrusion,
The Gap Band,
Cal Tjader,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chrome,
Sex Pistols,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minnie Riperton,
La Düsseldorf,
Ponytail,
Yaz,
Blancmange,
Black Flag,
Black Bananas,
Robert Görl,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dead C,
48th St. Collective,
The Fugs,
Sarah Menescal,
ABC,
Marine Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sparks,
Gong,
Gabor Szabo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Moon,
The Monks,
Alton Ellis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gichy Dan,
The Smoke,
Dennis Brown,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Sound Behaviour,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
The Smiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Near,
Yazoo,
David Axelrod,
Trumans Water,
Deepchord,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.