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 Kyrgyzstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Todd Terry to the grunge 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Brick,
June Days,
Main Source,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Parrish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slick Rick,
Brand Nubian,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tommy Roe,
This Heat,
Drexciya,
Theoretical Girls,
Dave Gahan,
The Fall,
Cybotron,
Junior Murvin,
The New Christs,
cv313,
Negative Approach,
Thompson Twins,
David Bowie,
The Trojans,
Tomorrow,
Andrew Hill,
PIL,
Mark Hollis,
Pylon,
Bill Wells,
Aural Exciters,
Gichy Dan,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
World's Most,
DNA,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Red Krayola,
Sound Behaviour,
In Retrospect,
Deepchord,
Saccharine Trust,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Flash Fearless,
Erykah Badu,
Godley & Creme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Hood,
Marc Almond,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter and Kerry,
Soft Machine,
Reagan Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.