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 Ivory Coast and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 T.S.O.L. to the punk 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Interpol,
Dead Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faust,
Sex Pistols,
Boz Scaggs,
Cymande,
Black Moon,
Funky Four + One,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Agent Orange,
The Golliwogs,
Excepter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Moleskins,
The Dead C,
Laurel Aitken,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Trumans Water,
Gang Starr,
The Neon Judgement,
The Young Rascals,
Franke,
Kerri Chandler,
The Five Americans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sixth Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Supertramp,
Y Pants,
the Bar-Kays,
The Black Dice,
Fear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Associates,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alton Ellis,
Mo-Dettes,
Josef K,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rakim,
Unwound,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Lynne,
The Toasters,
Iggy Pop,
The Gun Club,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slits,
Hardrive,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Hood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Raincoats,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.