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 Burkina and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brothers Johnson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Q and Not U,
Heaven 17,
Aswad,
The Raincoats,
The Skatalites,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Cale,
Bill Near,
DNA,
Wally Richardson,
The Mummies,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy Collins,
Pulsallama,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
Fatback Band,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
Organ,
Massinfluence,
Rotary Connection,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kerrie Biddell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
F. McDonald,
The Moleskins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quantec,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bluetip,
Aaron Thompson,
the Normal,
Cal Tjader,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bill Wells,
Nik Kershaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Arcadia,
The Fire Engines,
Todd Terry,
Angry Samoans,
Boz Scaggs,
Quadrant,
Bob Dylan,
Television Personalities,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Slackers,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
Scrapy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wolf Eyes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
Darondo,
Rod Modell,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.