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 Moldova and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Eric Copeland to the grime 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moby Grape,
In Retrospect,
Jacob Miller,
John Cale,
Model 500,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Thee Headcoats,
Man Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Connie Case,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mad Mike,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Danielle Patucci,
Gabor Szabo,
Darondo,
Altered Images,
Minnie Riperton,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maleditus Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Finger,
The Modern Lovers,
the Germs,
Faraquet,
The J.B.'s,
The Busters,
Unwound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Standells,
The Victims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Flag,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
Oneida,
Jeff Mills,
Half Japanese,
Japan,
Sugar Minott,
Cymande,
Robert Hood,
Sister Nancy,
DJ Style,
Fela Kuti,
Ludus,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Sound Behaviour,
Skriet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.