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 Sudan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 H. Thieme to the funk 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Max Romeo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bronski Beat,
Eric Dolphy,
The Names,
Accadde A,
Tres Demented,
Alphaville,
Andrew Hill,
Toni Rubio,
The Misunderstood,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dave Gahan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Delta 5,
Sun Ra,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Pus,
Connie Case,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Q65,
The Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed,
The Beau Brummels,
K-Klass,
Brass Construction,
Scratch Acid,
Wolf Eyes,
Dawn Penn,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Technova,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Associates,
Nick Fraelich,
Shoche,
The Motions,
Sparks,
Ultra Naté,
This Heat,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lower 48,
Agitation Free,
H. Thieme,
Panda Bear,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Glenn Branca,
Public Enemy,
Dead Boys,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.